The Place that We Call Home
by burn to ashe
Summary: AU set in a fantasy world . Raven must find a way to throw down her father, King Trigon, before he destroys the known kingdoms. Prince Richard promises to be a great obstacle in her path. RobRae, RobStar, BBTerra.
1. Beautiful

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by Comalies**

**Disclaimer – I do not own Teen Titans, tough the idea to toss them all into a fantasy world was all mine. Woot, go me.**

**Author Notes – The pairings for this will probably be as follows: One sided Star/Rob, Rob/Rae, BB/Terra. Other things might appear as well.**

**Other Notes – I might have based a few things off the comics, but I am not going to use it all. And, this chapter is merely to introduce characters. So don't judge the rest of the story by this. **

**Approx. Ages:**

**Raven – 19**

**Richard – 20**

**Victor – 23**

**Kori – 19**

**Komand'r – 20**

**Gar – 18**

**Tara - 17**

**- - -**

**Chapter One – Beautiful**

**1.1**

Raven hated many things about her current situation. Among these things included the dress she was lashed into, the man sitting directly to her right, and the entire concept of these "peace treaty" meetings.

Not that she was against the idea of peace, but she knew that her father did not mean a thing he was saying. He would never keep to the terms of these arrangements, leaving this entire meeting to be useless. And Raven hated useless things.

She was sorely tempted to just walk out of the meeting entirely, but knew that though her father put up with something signs of disobedience from his only child, and therefore his heir, the King of Azarath would not put up with that.

Azarath had once been a peaceful kingdom. A religious state, once, it had been conquered by the demon-king and put under martial law. Though this had been before Raven's birth, she was a very intelligent young woman and could see it in her people's eyes.

She hated her father for putting that fear there.

Her expression darkened and a faint hiss filled the chamber. Startled, she swallowed hard and clamped down on that dark emotion. Cursing silently to herself, she was relieved when the foreign emissary seemed not to notice her slip up.

Her father, however, looked amused.

That galled her.

She turned her attention, instead, to the young emissary. His name was Ryand'r, and he was the youngest son of the royal house of Tamaran. A prince in his own right, Raven knew that he would probably never inherit, not with two healthy elder sisters fully capable of ruling.

By all accounts, of course. Rarely would any royal parties let slip if a member of their house was vulnerable; not when the demon-king might hear it.

Raven watched the young prince intently. He seemed confident and a little cocky. He was about seventeen years old, a few years her junior. He had probably never been sent on a mission like this one. The Princess of Azarath wondered if her father would let him leave alive.

She closed her eyes at that.

She hadn't been paying attention to most of the proceedings, so it was hard to know if this meeting was close to completion or not. From the expression on her father's face, she hoped so. That feral look always terrified her on some base level.

"I must return to Tamaran and gain the king's approval on these matters, of course, but I believe he will look favorably upon our terms." Ryand'r spoke up.

Ah, done then.

Trigon shifted in his chair and smiled. "Of course, Prince Ryand'r. Send Myand'r my greetings."

Raven shook, but Ryand'r didn't seem to notice the menacing tone.

"I will." he bowed slightly. "King Trigon." He turned to Raven and bowed with one hand across his chest. "Princess."

"Prince Ryand'r." she returned politely. As she watched the young prince stride from the chamber, she turned her cold eyes upon her father. "Will he live to reach our borders, my king?"

Trigon stared for a long time after the tousle-haired prince before answering.

"His death would not yet serve my purpose."

Raven let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Ryand'r would see Tamaran again.

When Trigon stood, Raven did as well. "Go, daughter, to your women. Embroider something, or whatever it is that women do. I will see you at evening meal."

And the King of Azarath strode from the room. Raven was alone; free until the evening meal. Free from her usefulness as a pretty bauble.

Looking down at her hands, and the crackling black energy there, she smiled to herself. This lady would not spend idle hours sewing. She would use the time to further her control.

"Time grows short. If I am even going to succeed..." She forced her eyes closed. Words of treason would not do to be spoken aloud while she still lacked the control and strength to throw down her father.

**1.2**

"Lord Richard, please be careful."

The dry tones of his uncle's steward brought only an impish grin to Richard Grayson's face. As he swung the longsword in a long upstroke, cleaving yet another straw dummy nearly in two, he felt the exhilaration fill him. Never did he feel so free as when he was free to be nothing more than a soldier.

Gotham was not a magically based nation like so many of it's neighbors. The soldiers of Gotham were almost exclusively human, with only a few mages or sorcerers in the mix at all.

And they were the best at it. No other nation could best Gotham on field of battle, soldier to soldier.

As he spun once more to finish the motion with more flourish than was absolutely necessary, he found himself being watched by more than the annoying steward, Alfred. His young brother, Timothy, also watched, very much enjoying the show.

"Amazing!" the younger boy chanted, in awe. Richard smiled down at his young "brother" before crossing to him and tousling his hair.

"If you keep at your lessons, you'll be just as good someday." the young prince of Gotham assured the boy.

With what can only be described as watery eyes of adoration turned on the older boy, Tim proclaimed: "I'll work really hard and someday I can go to war with you and Uncle Bruce!"

Richard's expression changed from exuberant to something much darker.

"Of course." he managed, shifting past the boy, and past the aging steward.

Alfred was not put off, however, and had a message to deliver. "Master Bruce requests your presence immediately, Lord Richard."

Richard's shoulders hunched before he nodded. He had been on his way to his chambers to draw a bath, but opted against it. His adopted uncle would be less concerned with appearances, and more concerned with how long it took his heir to answer his summons.

Richard knew he shouldn't feel ill will towards his mentor and, in no small part, savior. Bruce, the King of Gotham, had adopted the young boy shortly after his parents had been killed. Having no wife of his own, and no heir, he had named the boy Crowned Prince and had seen to his education in all matters of war, state, life, and on all sorts of scholarly issues.

He was grateful to the king, but lately had begun to feel oppressed by him. Locking that particular feeling away, he presented himself in the older man's presence.

As usual, King Bruce wasted no time on pleasantries, he simply began with the issue at hand.

"I had a courier this morning. It contained a proposition that is very hard to turn down."

Richard felt like something was crawling down his spine, and it unnerved him. He almost did not want to hear what would be said next.

"From who?"

"Myand'r of Tamaran. He proposes to wed you to his second daughter, forming a strong alliance. Apparently Trigon has been threatening to invade more than Gotham lately."

Richard scowled. "Trigon has always been threatening to take over the known kingdoms. Why should we think he means to do it this time?"

Bruce turned. "His daughter recently celebrated her nineteenth birthday. They say she has the same powers as her father."

That unnerved Richard. "Trigon is bad enough... but two demons?" he shook his head. "That's hard to fathom."

"That is what has Myand'r concerned."

Richard nodded. He did not much want to be married off to someone, but the idea of Trigon taking over Tamaran and Gotham did not appeal to him either.

"So if I marry Myand'r's daughter..."

"Then the alliance between our kingdoms is cemented and we stand as one."

Richard sighed silently. "What is the girl's name? I should at least know that of my betrothed."

**1.3**

She ran. She was barely ahead of them. Her assumptions that she could loose so many in the forest was apparently completely unfounded, because her pursuers seemed to gain ground instead of lose it.

Great.

Her long blonde hair flying behind her, Tara Markov barely caught herself from a tumble before plunging onward.

She was not entirely sure why they were after her either. It had only been an apple! One apple. Ok, so she realized that stealing was wrong, but to send six guards after her was what she would call a bit too much.

Damn, it was so dark, the trees so close that it was becoming treacherous to be at a full tilt run. She turned to look back over her shoulder, and saw only a gleaming blade in the gloom. Terror caught in her throat as she ran headlong into something.

Or someone, it seemed. Sprawed out on top of something warm, she feared that it might be one of her pursuers. But no, this person was barely taller than her, and while he was well built, it was in a slim, compact sort of way.

She moved to scramble off of what she guessed was a dark skinned boy near her age, grabbing his arm and dragging him up as well. If these people saw him, they'd kill him just on the assumption that he had helped her.

"Come on!" she managed, fear clutching at her. When he was on his feet, dark eyes shining in confusion and a bit of his own fear, she tugged at his arm. "We have to go, or they'll catch us!"

"Us?" he managed.

"They'll think you helped me." she managed, yanking harder this time. She only moved him a few steps, before he planted his feet.

"I can stop them." he insisted. She opened her mouth to ask what he thought he was going to do against six armed men but was shocked into silence when the slim boy shifted shape into a fierce jungle cat right before her eyes. Speechless, she watched him lunge at the six guards.

She stood, shaking a bit, but not completely dumbfounded.

'He's a shapechanger...' she thought absently. As he fought, with claws and teeth, she watched a sixth flank him, sword gleaming.

"No!" she screamed out, throwing her hand up. She watched, entranced, as the forest floor exploded, the bedrock climbing up to consume the man, dragging him to die underground.

The remaining guards saw that and ran for their lives.

The shapechanger turned back to her, shifting back to a more human form and approached her.

"If you could do that, why were you running from them?" he inquired, an impish grin on his face. She looked aghast at what she'd done, though, and turned away, clutching her head.

He approached and put a hand on her shoulder.

"No, don't touch me. I might.. I..." she trailed off, tears threatening at the corners of her eyes.

"Magic that powerful isn't a bad thing."he commented. A faint smile crossed his face when she looked up at him. "I'm Garfield."

She shook. "My name is Tara."

"Welcome to the forest, Tara."

**1.4**

"Victor! VICTOR!"

The dark skinned young man in question was engrossed with the objects on his work desk, too fargone to hear his own name being bellowed through his home by a woman in a set of soot covered robes.

His door crashed open and the woman in question glared at her son. "Victor Stone, have you lost the ability to hear me!"

Victor muttered under his breath to the point of "one moment", but the woman would have none of that.

"Victor Stone, I am your mother! You will not tell me to wait!"

He started, and the crystals he was working with lost their glow and faded to normal. He turned and glared.

"What is so vastly important that you had to interupt my experiment?" he growled. She put hands on her hips and returned the glare.

"You are just like your father, too wrapped up in your precious experiements to realize that things like food and water don't magically appear." she retorted. "I asked you to go to the butcher today, Victor, and now he's closed up shop and we have no meat to go in the stew."

Victor sighed. "So we can eat something else."

"There is nothing else! You and your father are home all day, and cannot lift a finger to buy a loaf of bread or a bit of beef. I have responsibilities at the castle, I cannot be home all day, doing the shopping."

Victor took a long look and his mother and sighed. "Sorry, mother, it just slipped my mind."

"Just like everything else does!" she threw her hands into the air. Victor watched his mother and did feel bad. She was the Head Magician of Gotham. Though both her husband and son were also mages, they favored exploring other uses of their magic to actually doing anything useful, as she put it.

He shifted towards her and hugged her. "I am sorry, mother. I'll go and do the shopping tomorrow morning, early. I promise."

She sighed and gave her son a strong hug.

"I know you mean well."

**1.5**

"I am to be married, then."

Koriand'r watcher her parents for some sign that they regretted taking this action, regretted forcing her into a marriage without even consulting her first. She found sympathy in her mother's face; after all Luand'r had been marriaged to Kori's father against her own will. The two had not even met before the wedding day.

She paused and folded her hands before her.

"Yes, daughter, to the heir of Gotham. I am told that Prince Richard is a good man, and fit to be heir of a strong nation." So her father did feel bad, she noted. He only appearled to her like this when he did. "I have even heard that he is a very handsome young man."

She forced a smile, for her father's benefit.

"Can I be allowed to meet him before the wedding, father? To see what my future husband is like."

Myand'r should, by all rights, have denied it. It would be dangerous for her to travel to Gotham right now. Myand'r knew he couldn't spare many soldiers to guard his beloved second daughter, but he could not deny his darling Star anything within reason.

"I suppose that can be arranged."

Luand'r spoke up. "Perhaps Prince Richard could come here, if he has time to make the journey."

Myand'r smiled at his queen. Always a problem-solver. They had made a good match, though neither had wanted the wedding at the time it had occurred.

Kori still did not look happy but curtseyed to both of her parents.

"I have things I should see to. Father, mother." she turned and hurried from the chamber, trying not to run, but wanting very much to run and hide. When she crossed into the hallway, she stopped to steel her nerves.

"Darling sister, I heard the _wonderful_ news. You are to be wed." Though the words could appear friendly and supportive, Komand'r's words towards her younger sister were very rarely anything but menacing and spiteful.

To compare Kori and Komand'r was nearly impossible. Though both were beautiful, that is where the similarities ended. Koriand'r had long, dark red hair and brilliant green eyes that shone when she was happy or blazed when she was angered. Her skin was tanned, like the sun has kissed her, blessing this child of day.

Komand'r was the night to her sister's day. Though older by a year, she and her sister were of much a similar height. Her long dark hair and dark eyes complimented her porcelin white skin. She also had one thing her sister did not: an awareness of her own beauty.

"I am to marry Prince Richard of Gotham." Koriand'r spoke up, trying to be defiant in the face of her sister's taunts.

"Oh, how lovely! I'm sure you will both be very happy together, dear sister." She fanned herself. "Of course, father wouldn't marry _me _off to anyone without my approval. I am the heir after all."

By right of age only. Kori knew better than Komand'r that their father had searched for a way to overlook the right-by-age law, and place Koriand'r as heir instead of her self-centered sister. But she said nothing. She would not rise to her sister's challenge.

"Of course, sister." was all she said as she slipped by her and walked stately down the hall.


	2. Frail

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by Comalies**

**Disclaimer – I still don't own it. XD I wish I did tho.**

**Author Notes – The pairings for this will probably be as follows: One sided Star/Rob, Rob/Rae, BB/Terra. Other things might appear as well.**

**Other Notes – This chapter is coming out so fast because of the awesome response I'm getting for it. This chapter is going to go more into Raven, and then Gar and Tara. I may touch on Richard and Kori, with some Vic thrown in, but 10 pages is my limit for chapter length, so I dunno. **

**- - -**

**Chapter Two – Frail**

**2.1**

She was late. She knew long before she entered the grand hall of her father's palace that he would be angered by her late arrival. Though she jutted a defiant chin forward, she was afraid of his anger.

What girl wouldn't be, after what she'd seen?

She could still see the day that it had all happened in her mind. It was all as clear as if she was watching it now. She'd been barely five years old, and so much more unaware of the dangers that are deeply entwined in life's dance.

Her mother, called Arella, had dared be defiant of Triton's wishes.

Raven clenched her eyes closed and felt her pulse quicken. She didn't want to relive her mother's dead at her father's hands. Not again, not when she needed to be strong to face him.

She stopped, resting an idle hand against the wall as she forced the imagery away. She needed to be strong. Strength. Serenity.

'It's just like Azar told you.'

Thoughts of the old priest brought a bit of hope to her. Calling himself only Azar, he had been teaching Raven to control her demonic tenancies through meditation, breathing exercises, and pure will. As skeptical as she'd been at first, it seemed to be working.

Thankfully, her father hadn't noticed. She didn't want anyone else to die, especially not because of her.

When she finally reached the door to the chamber, she straightened her skirts and ran a shaky hand down her chest to wipe away anything that might be there. Not that there was, but it was just another useless motion meant to calm her nerves.

It didn't work.

If only she'd listened to Azar and returned to the palace when he'd suggested, she would have had plenty of time to bathe and dress before evening meal. But no, she'd wanted to master a new spell before she'd left.

Her stubborn nature might well get her killed yet.

She signaled to the herald to announce her, and he obliged. As she walked the length of the hall, she could feel her father's anger seeping from the very walls. She felt five years old again and had to force each step to be smooth, and not hesitant.

When she reached her seat, the one directly to her father's left hand, she paused.

She opened her mouth to speak a carefully worded apology, but he cut her off.

"Is it so hard for you to tell time, daughter, or were you too busy with your spellcraft to care?"

Her heart skipped a beat and she fought for calm through a sea of panic.

"I don't know what you mean, father, I fell asleep in my solar and-"

He stood, slamming his fists against the table. Red wine seeped like blood into the white tablecloths, and eventually onto the floor. She closed her eyes, fighting her own nature and the instinct to run.

He turned to her, rage in his eyes and she bit her tongue until the taste of iron filled her mouth.

"Do you think me stupid, child? I know you have been training to control your own instincts with that damned priest for months." He stepped towards her, tone low and threatening. She flinched.

She couldn't help but flinch, but knew that that single motion might well be the last straw. Surely he was going to strike her down, here, much as her mother had died.

His amused voice met her ears instead. "Have I ever harmed you, Raven?"

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, towering over her. "No, father." She wasn't lying. He had never raised a hand towards her, but his treachery elsewhere had imprinted a sense of terror in her.

"Then why fear me, daughter?" his amused chuckle sparked anger in her.

And anger burned through fear.

"I do not fear you, my lord." she retorted. She took her seat and waited until he returned to his. A terrified servant came and cleaned up the wine before retreating nearly at a run. The meal continued in silence.

**2.2**

Garfield led the way through the foliage to a city in the trees. She would never have guessed that this place was here, had Gar not pointed it out to her. Tara smiled around her, in wonder. She had heard rumors, who hadn't after all, of a people who lived in the trees, but so few had ever seen them.

Garfield shifted into the form of a sparrow and fluttered up into a tall, ancient oak tree. She watched him fly, in wonder, before she realized that she was being left behind.

"Hey!" she called after him. A few moments later, a rope ladder was dropped from several stories up. She took one look at it and smirked before starting the long climb upwards. When she reached the top, Garfield was waiting and took her hand to help her make the final step up.

She bumped into him and felt herself blush looking into the bright green eyes. Laughing a little too loud, she took a step back and smiled at him. He motioned with his arms.

"Welcome to my home!"

The platform that they stood on was relatively flat, and wrapped around a house built into the tree. He walked to a brightly colored flap covering the door and pushed it aside.

"Ma, I brought a guest!" he called in. Tara meekly followed behind him into the small home.

It was neat, not overly decorated, and very practical. Though she had noticed that her dark-skinned rescuer had a green color to his entire pallor, the woman who appeared around the corner looked human enough. She smiled once at what could only be her son before turning her attentions to their visitor.

"Hello. I'm Marie Logan." she smiled at the younger woman.

"I'm Tara..." she hesitated and did not use her last name. If Marie noticed this, though, she said nothing.

"It's nice to meet you Tara." she looked between Garfield and Tara before speaking again. "This is nice. Are you hungry, Tara?"

'Starved.' she thought immediately. She hadn't been eating well lately. "I am a bit hungry." she allotted. The woman nodded knowingly before she walked back towards another part of the small home.

Gar grinned like a guilty cat before plopping himself down on the floor next to a low table.

"Sit down. Ma'll bring the food out soon."

Tara complied, sitting down. She smiled across the table at Garfield.

"This place is really nice. It's peaceful here."

She thought briefly of the city she'd just been chased out of and sighed.

"Yeah, it is nice here." A long silence began, but it was not uncomfortable for either of them. When Marie reappeared, a two bowls in hand, she set them down before the two and smiled warmly. "Eat up. I made a whole big batch of this stew this morning, so they're plenty to go around." Patting Tara's shoulder, she stood again and excused herself.

Garfield dug in immediately, but Tara hesitated. She looked down at the stew, which smelled wonderful. Tempted to drool, she lifted her spoon and took a bite.

It was wonderful, absolutely wonderful. She ate at a speed that rivalled Gar and had several more bowls before she felt like she was going to burst. When she finally sat back, very warm and content, and now very tired, a sleepy smile crossed her face.

"Thank you." she breathed to Garfield's mother as the woman took back two empty bowls.

"Think nothing of it, lass. Twas nothing. Garfield, why don't you help me set this lass a place to sleep tonight."

Tara's eyes widened. "I couldn't impose."

"Ye'll not be imposing, ye'll be our guest." Marie walked through the doorway and Garfield turned a smile on her.

"You better listen. When she slips into her native accent, she means business." He turned and followed her out the doorway and left Tara wondering about a great many things.

**2.3**

Raven looked over the capitol city of Azarath, the royal city, and closed her eyes. She knew she was running out of time. Trigon would hear of her planned treachery soon, if he didn't already know. When he chose to act, her life was forfeit. She truly was no match for him now.

Closing her eyes, she leaned forward, resting her palms against the cool stone railing. As the chill from the stone filled her hand, she felt herself slowly relax.

She knew what she had to do; the only option left to her at this point was to leave Azarath. Leave her beloved home, perhaps never to see it again. She needed more training, and she needed it fast. Maybe, one day, she would be strong enough to defeat her father. Maybe one day she could return, the victorious hero.

She opened her deep violet eyes and looked over her city once more. It hurt to leave, but she had always had a strong sense of duty. She would do no good to her people, or the people of the known kingdoms, getting herself killed under her father's hand.

She turned back into her rooms and gathered what she would need, condensing it all to a pair of saddle bags and one larger pack.

When she hesitated, she retrieved a handmirror from her bedside table and wrapped it carefully in a shirt before placing it, too, into the pack. She hesitated, though, before lifting the bag. She drew a long dagger, something she was sure her father did not know she had, and turned towards the large, freestanding mirror on the opposite side of her room. Descending upon it slowly, she lifted the dagger and cut her long, beautiful violet hair short, so that it was barely longer than her chin.

Satisfied with her work, she sheathed the dagger and returned to her packed things.

"Good bye, Azarath... I will return to you. I promise."

And like the bird she was named for, Raven flew out of the city astride a black horse.


	3. Desperate

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by Comalies**

**Disclaimer – No matter how many stars I wish upon, Richard and Raven do not appear to become mine… this perplexes me.**

**Author Notes – The pairings for this will probably be as follows: One sided Star/Rob, Rob/Rae, BB/Terra. Other things might appear as well.**

**Other Notes – Onto chapter three, we must discuss Kori, who was left out of the last chapter, as well as her "prince charming". /gag/. Well I guess we don't actually. Kori will appear next chapter again. **

**- - -**

**Chapter Three - Desperate**

**3.1**

Victor Stone had been inside the royal palace of Gotham twice in his life. He counted both times as astounding and awe-inspiring, and held them close as valuable experiences.

This day promised to bring the count to three, and for the ten thousandth time that morning, Victor looked at himself in the long polished mirror and cursed himself for his ragged appearance.

He did not look ragged, however, but rather dashing in his finest: perfectly tailored black trousers, and a tunic cut in the height of Gotham's court fashion. With the hardy gray cloak fastened around his broad, strong shoulders, he looked the match for any courtier.

Except he wasn't, and he knew very little about court language and carrying favor. This was his mother's realm of understanding.

"Victor, let us be off already. Ye have been preening like a bird all morning. You look fine!"

Ah, his mother. Always knowing exactly how to make him feel like a child, regardless of what she said. When he sighed in defeat and descended the stairs to join her, he knew he looked ill.

She smiled knowingly at him. "Calm down, my boy. Meeting the king won't be so terrible. Most of those stories about the dungeons are lies."

Most. Victor swallowed hard and nodded mutely.

When his mother had come home the night before, spreading the 'good' news, he'd immediately known it was a bad idea. King Bruce had specifically asked Elinore Stone to bring her son to the palace.

He wanted very dearly to know why. He wanted to run off. He wanted to change his name and move to Tamaran!

"Are you ready, or do you think standing around and panicking until we're late is a better idea?"

Victor glared at his mother.

"You're enjoying this."

She smiled and linked arms with her much larger, fully grown son.

"I think I'm entitled."

**3.2**

Richard sat beside his king, his liege, and his adopted parental figure that morning, mind far too preoccupied to really comprehend much that was going on. Though he habitually attended these types of meetings, and knew many of the High Court officials and members, today's events just were not piercing through to him.

So when Elinore, High Court Magician, entered and introduced her son that morning, he completely missed the entire proceedings, thinking instead of a girl named Koriand'r, and the fate soon to befall the two.

He completely missed the reason that Victor had been invited to the palace. He missed the plans for the crowned prince to visit his soon-to-be Tamaranian bride. He also missed his cue, when Bruce had intended him to jump in graciously.

"Prince Richard appears to have something else on his mind this morning." Elinore pointed out with mirth, approaching the boy and leaning towards him. "It is expected, I suppose. Most bridegrooms-to-be wear much the same distracted expression."

Richard nearly jumped, looking up at the aging magician before he stuttered out a poorly scripted apology.

"I suppose you missed everything concerning your mission to Tamaran, then?" Bruce commented, not quite able to keep irritation from his voice. Richard steeled his expression.

"Of course I heard you." he lied.

Bruce knew it was a lie. "Then you and young Victor can be about the business of getting prepared. After all, you are leaving early in the morrow."

Richard blinked and tried to look around, but found himself defeated as Elinore carefully cut off most of his view of the throne room.

"Who's Victor?" he asked in defeat.

Elinore smiled down at him and gestured back towards a rather largely built young man of similar coloring to her. "My son. Victor Stone."

The young man nodded and bowed.

"My prince."

Richard nodded distractedly, hoping for someone to explain why this Victor was coming with him.

Bruce sensed it, but it was Elinore who acted.

"The king did not wish you to travel to Tamaran unescorted, but worried that an armed contingent of guards would be seen as a threat. So he decided that my son should accompany you. He is, after all, a fully trained magician, and very capable with a sword as well." She descended the dias and drew her son forward.

The man swallowed hard, and Richard felt distinctly bad for him. He had, after all, been on the brunt end of Elinore's speeches before. It was an odd feeling: she had a way to make you feel inflated and insulted at the same time, and no one was sure how.

"Come then, Victor. Let us become acquainted." Richard spoke, descending the dias and walking past the young magician. Victor's heart skipped a beat and he followed silently behind his prince.

They left the throne room and walked in silence down the wide hall until they reached Richard's personal chambers, when the prince was sorely tired of silence.

"I had no idea that Elinore's son was my age or better. Unless you have a young brother at home?"

Victor's face flushed. "No, I am her only child." he returned quietly.

"She speaks of you as if you were five." Richard grinned. Victor sighed.

"I know, my lord. She has a way about her. She can make anyone feel childish or stupid in the midst of a compliment."

Because Richard had thought much the same thing a moment ago, he merely smiled and clapped Victor on the back.

"You and I will get along, I believe."

**3.3**

Raven hadn't been outside of the holy city before in her life. When she finally stopped to feed and water the horse, her legs were shaking with fatigue and she collapsed to the ground, exhausted. She hadn't realized how hard this was going to be.

She knew her father's soldiers were on her trail by now, and she knew they would have no such problems as worries for their horses or being completely lost in the woods.

She stood, after a long time sitting, and patted the horse's flank. "Old friend... we must make it... somewhere we can hide. I don't know where yet. I don't even know where we are, but can you take me somewhere safe?"

The horse snorted, but she felt something from it more than animal musings. She shook her head and mounted.

She hadn't said a thing before it took off. She grasped at the reins and closed her eyes, hoping that this horse really did know where it was going.


	4. Protected

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by Wicked Azar (Azar Moonchild)**

**Disclaimer – No matter how many stars I wish upon, Richard and Raven do not appear to become mine… this perplexes me.**

**Author Notes – The pairings for this will probably be as follows: One sided Star/Rob, Rob/Rae, BB/Terra. Other things might appear as well.**

**Other Notes – **

**- - -**

**Chapter Four - Protected**

**4.1**

Koriand'r tried very hard to sit as was proper at her mother's table that morning, but she felt butterflies in her stomach and couldn't even eat the lightly buttered toast offered her when she claimed she was ill. She sat with faraway eyes, part excitement and part dread filling her. Today was the day that Prince Richard of Gotham was to arrive.

She excused herself from the table and crossed the small breakfast room to stand on the balconies. Because of the fine weather, the doors had been thrown open and a gentle breeze blew deep red hair around the princess. Behind her, the small idle chatter of Queen Luand'r, Komand'r, and the Queen's ladies was faraway, and distant. Both the king and prince were absent from the table this morning, begging to be excused to ride the Nothern fields this morning, searching for winter damage to the fences.

Kori pillowed her face in her hands as she watched the horizon for signs of an approaching party. They should not arrive until much later, but what if they made good time? They could arrive any moment!

Or potentially not for another week if the spring rains kept them from making good time. That possibility was far more like; this was the first dry and warm day they'd had for a week.

"Oh look, Mother, Kori dear is waiting dutifully for her husband-to-be. She'll make a perfect bride." Komand'r said scornfully. "It's simply darling." Koriand'r's face colored faintly and she glared at her sister.

Luand'r looked disapprovingly at her eldest before standing and approaching Koriand'r. "Kori, ignore your sister. Richard will make a good husband for you. Your father only wants the best for you, you know that."

"No, Mother, Father merely wants what is best for Tamaran. As do I." She touched her mother's hand gently and smiled as best she could manage. "I do not much mind, Mother. I am sure that Richard and I will grow to be as happy as you and Father in time."

Luand'r looked at her daughter, tears shining in her eyes. "My daughter... you are so grown up." She kissed her daughter's cheek and smiled. "I wish you could marry for love, daughter, and only of your own choice, but these are evil times."

Koriand'r smiled. "At least I am to be wed to a good and honorable man."

**4.2**

"If this damnable weather does not begin to cooperate, we will never reach Tamaran! We will die in the woods, drowned like rats!" Richard complained after the fifth straight day of rain. A well-oiled cloak can only keep one dry so long in weather like this, as well both young men from Gotham were finding out.

After the second day, they'd ridden straight through, not bothering to stop to try and have a hot meal. It was raining too hard to light a fire, and there was no dry wood anyway. So it had been four days of trail rations, but plenty of cold water.

"Milord, we're no more than a full day's ride from Tamaran. If we are lucky, we could arrive there this night." Victor smirked at his new-found friend. "A little rain surely won't destroy the great Prince of Gotham, will it?"

Richard, a thick lot of dark hair falling into his face, bringing with it a stream of water down his face, glared. Victor merely laughed.

They rode in companionable silence for a time, before Richard pulled his horse to stop. Victor did the same and glanced back at his liege.

"Something wrong?"

Richard held up a hand and listened. He would have been certain he'd heard- ah there! He dismounted from his horse and handed the reigns to Victor.

"Richard, where are you going?"

"Stay here. I won't go far. And I'll yell if I need help."

Victor shook his head, but sighed and listened to the prince. Richard, hand on the hilt of his sword, moved into the thick of the forest and followed exactly what he'd heard; the sound of a battle.

He found her then. She was a small woman, though no younger than him perhaps, but small of stature and slim of figure. She was dressed as a man, but there was no mistaking that she was in fact, a woman. This concept was accented by the fact she was soaked to the bone.

The fact that she was cornered by a rather large wild pig brought Richard's sword to his hand and brought him forward to help her.

It all happened so fast that Richard was left wondering exactly what did happen in later moments. A blur of something got there before him. The pig was knocked aside by a large jungle cat, which proceeded to screech at the pig until it was frightened off. Now thinking he had a bigger problem, Richard went for the cat with his sword, but the very earth itself rebelled and he was thrown to the ground, large pillars of the ground surrounding him.

"STOP!" the lithe, soaked woman screamed. She threw up her hand and the earth peeled away. Richard, now thoroughly confused, stood and brushed himself off.

The soaked woman now stood beside a small... green man. Richard blinked at that, before spotting the young blonde who approached and linked arms with the green man.

"What is going on here?" Richard demanded. He looked to the shivering young woman, her dark hair hanging in clumps around her pale face, and then back to the much less wet two.

The dark haired woman shook her head. "He's a shapechanger. And the other is a geomancer." She supplied, obviously regaining her composure now. "Thank you all for the help, but I must be-"

And she fainted. Richard was not close enough to catch her, nor was the shapechanger. She hit the dirt and Richard came to her side.

"Ma'am?" he lifted her from the cold and noticed that her shivering was from more than the cold, but she was burning with fever. "She's feverish." he looked at the other two and bit back on his pride. "Do you have somewhere we could get her out of the rain?"

The green man paused before nodding and motioning him to follow. "Come on. My mom can take care of her."

The blonde hesitated and nodded her agreeance. Richard moved to follow, then looked at the blonde. "Can you go to the path and find my companion? His name is Victor, and he will worry if he doesn't know where I've gone."

The blonde girl nodded and patted his shoulder. "I am Terra. This is Garfield. We will help you, newcomer, because it is what Garfield has taught me to do." She smiled to herself. "And we will help her because she needs to be healed."

She ran off with that, and Richard paid no mind to her little speech. A few minutes of walking in silence before Richard felt the need to introduce himself. "I'm Richard. She said your name was Garfield?"

The green man nodded. "I am. My mom's name is Marie. You'll meet her when we get back to my place." he glanced up at Richard. "Don't worry. It's the law of the forest... we help each other. Especially the animals."

And he would explain no more.

**4.3**

Raven woke much later, in a quiet little room, under many warm covers. She was warm and dry for the first time in a week, and felt very adverse to moving from this place. Finally fear burned through the comfort and she pushed her blankets aside. She was dressed in different clothes. Only dressed in a simple shift now, she noticed a plain and simple dress set beside her low bed and pulled it on. She could find no shoes, but a pair of warm woolen stockings she did, and pulled those on as well.

She was still cold, and she knew she wasn't well yet, but she approached the door hanging separating this room from the next and waiting, listening to the conversation.

"So you're a prince, huh? That's insane!" a male voice exclaimed.

"Garfield, don't be rude. Let our guests be." an older, matronly woman chided. Raven could hear the clink of dishes being moved.

Quiet, and a low exchange between two deep male voices, and then approaching footsteps. "I'm going to check on the girl. If the poor dear doesn't wake up soon, she might not make it."

Raven paled and shifted away from the doorway as a woman pulled the hanging aside and entered. "Oh, you're awake already! That's good. Do you feel up to walking out here and having a bit of soup?"

Raven shook her head, which made her dizzy. "I'm not hungry, thank you. I must be going. I have somewhere I have to be."

_'Though how I'll get there now that my horse is dead... I don't know.'_

"Nonsense. You're far too weak to get anywhere right now, darling." The older woman slipped an arm around her shoulders and led her slowly towards the main chamber, full of people. Raven schooled herself and let herself be led.

'I have to be careful. No one must know who I am. I must travel in secret until I can-' She shook her head. That was later. She must focus on one thing at a time.

She looked around the circle of faces, and felt the experience of knowing no one. One, the sword bearing young man from earlier- he must be the prince.

'He is not prince of Tamaran or Atlantis. He has the look about him of one from Gotham, though. Perhaps he is King Bruce's son.' her thoughts surmised. She schooled an expression before sitting as the woman directed. A bowl of broth was placed in her hands, and she began slowly to eat it.

"What is your name, fair maiden?" the large colored man spoke. He wore a pair of robes, perhaps he was a priest or magician? He looked athletic, though. That confused Raven a bit, but she smiled plainly.

"My name is Rachel. I am from the North." she spoke, voice trembling, though she was still sick and didn't have to feign it.

The air shifted.

"From Azarath?" came the prince's stiff voice. "What were you doing there?"

She nodded. "On the border. My family were refugees. We escaped the demon-king's soldiers together, but were seperated over a week ago." Her quickly thought up story came from so much truth. "I fear they are dead."

Lying hurt, but she was not in a position to reveal who she really was, or what her plans were. "Now I'm headed to Gotham." She looked around the circle. "That's where we were supposed to meet, if we got lost."

The prince and the dark skinned man exchanged a look. "We're headed to Gotham, eventually, but first we go to Tamaran. If you wish to travel with us the whole way, we could accompany you, milday."

She looked at them and finally nodded. "That would be much appreciated, milord."


	5. Impressions

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by Azar the Kinslayer**

"_I held you up every time you were down  
You're crying stopped when I was around._

_Why don't you love me_

_Enough to stay with me?"_

_**-"For Amelie" by Leaves' Eyes**_

**Disclaimer – No matter how many stars I wish upon, Richard and Raven do not appear to become mine? this perplexes me.**

**Author Notes – Okay, so it took forever but I'm reobsessed with this fic. I hope to finish it, but I have work and all sorts of other 'fun' things that might get in the way. **

**- - -**

**Chapter Five – Impressions**

**5.1**

The day's ride to Tamaran's capital was like a dream to Raven. She rode behind Richard or Victor, whichever big strong man was up for the baggage, but they didn't treat her poorly as she expected. When she said she was a refugee, she'd expected that they would never have paid her a second notice. She did not expect an escort to Gotham.

But why would the Prince of Gotham be going first to Tamaran? Raven went over everything she knew about the place in her mind and came up lacking? unless? Unless the Prince was on his way to meet his bride.

She was sitting behind the prince now, hand entwined in his sword belt lazily. They weren't riding hard, but in this rain the horse might spook and an inexperienced rider like Raven, or her cover Rachel, would be easily thrown. So she managed to keep the worst of the cold rain and wind out of her face by the larger figure in front of her.

It would make sense for Prince Richard to be meeting with the King of Tamaran for wedding negotiations. With Azarath looming before them, a constant threat, strong alliances were necessary. Her throat tightened and her eyes narrowed. Well, she would make sure that Trigon was no longer a threat to anyone, as soon as she had the help that would make that possible. She knew that Gotham was the place to go. Bruce, Richard's adopted father, was more war minded than many of the other loosely allied nations. He would rise up at an opportunity to throw down Trigon more quickly than any of the others, she was sure. So she would go to Gotham.

Until then, she was simply a peasant girl in the presence of a prince, a magician, a shapechanger, and a terraformer. Odd company, she decided. Very odd.

"Oi! Look!" Victor cried. Raven looked around Richard, fearing the worst, but was enchanted by the white city, the capital of Tamaran, that rose before them. The great spires, the strong walls? all crafted of white stone. She was entranced, and in love.

"Finally!" Garfield spewed out, shifting forms from the horse he'd been to accommodate Tara's need of steed, and stretched. Tara, who hadn't been quite ready to dismount, glared as she climbed up off of the ground. She looked like she wanted to kick him.

"We aren't there quite yet." Richard spoke up. "The castle is up on the mount." He had the faintest smile on his face. "But at least we can change into some dry clothes soon."

Richard kicked his horse into a canter and the others quickly followed. Raven found herself holding on tighter, though, than she'd intended.

"Are you alright, Rachel?" he called over his shoulder as they rode into the city, paying no heed to anyone as they began to climb towards the palace. She gritted her teeth, and held on for dear life. She didn't respond, but that he'd asked made her want to smile. Then she cut that thought off. She couldn't afford to be deterred, not now, not ever. Not until Trigon was dead.

When finally they appeared before the gates, a guard halted them and demanded their purpose in the palace. That quickly settled, the party rode into the castle, where several surprises awaited them.

**5.2**

Raven, by merit of her cover story's social status, was not included in the party to meet the King of Tamaran, but she could only wonder at the proceedings. She was left in the small room in the Prince's suite that had been given to this odd girl who seemed to have no purpose. She didn't mind in the least. Prince Ryand'r could have recognized her, had she been at the introductions, and she couldn't have that.

Not to mention that meant she could linger over her hot bath, getting every last bit of the travel dirt off of her before she climbed from the tub, once the water was long cold. She dried and lounged in the soft cotton robes provided for her before, yawning, she fell asleep in the modest but comfortable bed in the middle of the room.

**5.3**

"May I present, His Highness Prince Richard of Gotham." the herald called. "And his companion, the Magi Victor Stone." the formal introductions complete, Richard and Victor strode the length of the hall with purpose in their step, and even a bit of a spring. After hot baths, no matter how hurried they had been, and a change of clothes even grumpy old Richard felt better ready to face this situation.

Before him sat the king, his queen, and a young woman with long, black hair. He could only assume that this creature was to be his bride, Koriand'r. She was nothing like he'd heard. This woman's cruelty shone in those striking eyes. Her shady little smirk and the way she sat so relaxed in her chair? all of it screamed that she was not the type of woman he would care to wed.

Victor flashed his prince a worried glance, but Richard ignored him. He inclined his head as was proper and befitting a foreign ruler and then turned to the young woman. "Is this my bride to be?" he asked with a gallant grin.

The young woman gave him a smile that clearly suggested she could tame that smile right off of her face. "No, Prince, of course not. My sister, Koriand'r, is to wed you. I am the heir."

Richard understood then. This was Komand'r. The heir of Tamaran was strikingly beautiful, but her incompetence and cruelty was renowned almost as far as the demon king's. He bowed over her hand appropriately, and said nothing at first. He turned back to the king and inquired of Koriand'r's whereabouts.

"My youngest daughter has requested to hold this first meeting off until the evening meal." The queen answered for her husband. There was a twinkle in her eyes. He had been judged by this woman, and found suited to her daughter. Richard saw that as a good sign. Surely this would would not approve if Koriand'r was such a horrible woman. As far as Richard could tell, Komand'r seemed to be the black sheep. That released some of the tension that had been riding him hard for weeks.

To their left, a young man striking a strong resemblance to the king entered. Ah, this must be his only son, Ryand'r. Tamaran was a nation where gender mattered not in the heir. The king's firstborn child was thought to be a gift from the gods, and blessed to rule. By Gotham's standards, Ryand'r would be the heir, as the firstborn son. It was simply one of the many cultural differences that Richard knew all too well about.

"Father, dinner will be served in the Great Hall at your convenience." Ryand'r spoke up after bowing gently. He turned to stand to the rear and right of his father's chair, taking in both guests but making himself unobtrusive.

Myand'r nodded to himself. "Then let us move to the Great Hall. Gentlemen?"

Richard nodded, but did not move immediately. "Sir, there are three others in our party that were not planned for ahead of time. Rooms have been made ready for them, but I would like to request that places be made at your table for them as well."

The king paused before nodding gravely. Richard couldn't tell if he was insulted that the prince wanted to bring commoners to his table or impressed that he was requesting this for his companions. He found he cared little one way or another.

"Of course, Prince Richard." he turned to his son. "See to it that the Prince's party has been accounted for completely, and that his companions are called to the evening meal as well."

**5.4**

Koriand'r had finally decided on the dark green gown that complimented her skintone and her long, glorious red hair. She stood before the full length mirror in her room, simply looking at her face, her body, her dress and her hair. She was not happy, nor sad. Merely pensive. She was being used as a chip in a treaty as much as her betrothed. She couldn't fault Richard for this. She wanted to be happy, and make him happy. They could grow to love, or at least cherish, one another over time. It need not be immediate.

She was prepared to make the very best of this.

She knew how to be a good wife for a king. It was what her mother had instructed her in all these years. She wasn't sure how Gotham would be, compared to Tamaran. She'd heard horrible rumors that a woman was merely chattle in that land, and counted for little. That prospect in no small measure terrified her.

But she would stand strong and she would be the king of wife that Richard would need. She turned to leave. Dinner would be soon, and she would be expected to be there a bit before to speak to her intended.

She couldn't say she wasn't nervous as the left her room for the Great Hall.

**5.5**

Koriand'r arrived with minimal fanfare, taking the seat to her father's right hand. Usually that seat was reserved for Komand'r, but with the festivities tonight, she was to be honored. As she took her seat, she took in the four new faces at her father's table. Two young, bright faces. Full of life and innocence, even if the young woman seemed a tad shy and withdrawn. Kori liked them on sight, but didn't speak to them.

It was the next two young men she focused on. Prince Richard and his companion. She'd been told the large magician with him was called Victor Stone. He was a large man, but he seemed nervy and solemn. Somehow, Kori wanted to believe that wasn't his usual façade, however. He seemed to have a kind demeanor, and a brotherly attitude towards those seated around him.

Prince Richard. Finally she allowed herself to turn to study the man who would be her husband. He was a tall man, with dark hair and eyes. She was struck by his frame, and by the intensity of those eyes. It almost unnerved her, and yet it intrigued her. His very demeanor was that of a man who had been raised to this world of politics and war games and knew very well the steps to this dance.

She smiled shyly in his direction, and was surprised to see the gesture returned. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad.

She was a few minutes early, and she carefully noted that her brother and sister were both absent. What in the world could they be doing? This was a special night? surely they wouldn't miss it. They couldn't abandon her like that!

The doors opened and relief flooded her until she saw the plainly dressed woman coming towards the table, with a flustered and vaguely annoyed look on her face. It was odd. Violet hair was odd enough, but that perfectly alabaster skin and her slight height made her a very appealing woman, despite the plain gown and short cropped hair. Her figure was generous, in a way that Kori's own was not. Kori was solid and while she had modest curves, she was more the warrior woman her people had bred.

This creature had the hips that would make her a good child bearer, and the slim waist of a maiden. Her hands were strong as she pulled her own chair back and slid into the seat next to Victor. She was obviously of the Prince's party, but who was she? A magician, like Magi Stone? No maid would have been traveling with the prince!

His whore? Kori's face flushed with anger at the appalling idea. Surely Prince Richard did not have someone like that! Her innocent outburst, even in her own mind, spoke of the naive side that she had always kept close and hidden, careful to keep it from Komand'r's wicked grasp.

But then who was this woman? She was not mentioned by name, nor introduced to anyone. She narrowed her eyes and studied this girl, but nothing seemed possible or probable. Who in the world was she?


	6. Persued

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by Azar the Kinslayer**

"_Wrote for the eclipse, wrote for the virgin_

_Died for the beauty the one in the garden_

_Created a kingdom, reached for the wisdom_

_Failed in becoming a god"_

_**-"Dead Boy's Poem" by Nightwish**_

**Disclaimer – No matter how many stars I wish upon, Richard and Raven do not appear to become mine? this perplexes me.**

**Author Notes – This is probably the first place where you'll notice real couples coming through. Obviously this story focuses primarily on Raven, thus the RaeRob pairing will take centerstage, but it hasn't even really begun to develop yet. It will begin in this and the next chapters though. Happy Reading! 3AK**

**- - -**

**Chapter Six – Persued**

**6.1**

Ryand'r entered at the side of his eldest sister, just before the meal was to begin. He paid the visiting prince and his party minimal attention, instead apologizing quietly to his father before taking his own seat. The first course was served, and light conversation was kept. Ryand'r studied everything of the mannerisms that passed between Koriand'r and Richard, determined to jump to his sister's aid should this match seem unfavorable.

He couldn't complain. Kori seemed taken with the young prince. She hung on his every word, and he seemed to pay her special attention. He was cordial and polite, interested in what Kori said. It seemed that he was no monster, and that his dear sister would be safe with him. They would be a good match.

With a bite of fresh greens halfway to his mouth, Ryand'r paused in shock. His eyes had finally flitted down the down to land on the prince's party. It was not possible, but the young woman?was that the demon king's daughter? Lady Raven had been in Azarath when he left, and her hair had been longer, but it was not impossible.

Surely it wasn't true, though. She did look remarkably like the firm princess of Azarath, but she would not be dressed plainly and sat with Prince Richard. Surely not.

Then he knew. She looked up at him and those unforgettable violet eyes met his. His heart skipped a beat, but there was such pain, such entreaty in those eyes that he said nothing. He merely smiled as he would to any young, pretty maid and turned back to his meal.

But it continued at the back of his mind? why was Lady Raven of Azarath hiding at his father's table? There had been no malice in those eyes? He would speak to her after the meal. Then he would know what to do.

**5.2**

Richard smiled for his bride to be, and took specific care to pay attention to everything she said. She was a beauty, that was sure, and she seemed intelligent enough. But her true shining features came through when she smiled, and when she spoke about Tamaran. She had so much heart it shone through in everything she did or said. Richard found her smile infectious.

It was too bad, though, that there was none of that love at first sight. He didn't believe in it, being far too practical of a man, but there was a small piece of him that had hoped that it was true simply to make this entire situation easier on the two of them. He could marry this girl, though. He knew he could. She would be a fine wife for him when he became king.

"Princess," he began once she'd finished her lengthy discourse of the soup that had been served. "Tell me, when does your father wish us to marry? A wedding of this caliber needs months to plan, but I believe that King Bruce would prefer this to take place well before the early snows hit the mountain passes, so we are guaranteed a return to Gotham before winter." He wished this ceremony to be done and as soon as possible. He was not really looking forward to it, but what must be done must be done.

Koriand'r smiled sadly, suddenly more withdrawn. It was as if she'd become shy.

"Father had mentioned the same problems. I assure you, Prince, that the wedding will be planned accordingly." She smiled at him. Discussing wedding plans was futile. The entire ceremony would be planned by the women in Koriand'r's family, with certain aspects decided already. Richard nodded to himself.

"It is good to hear, then." He leaned back from the table to await the next course, running his eyes over Tara and Garfield, who seemed to be completely out of their element, to Rachel. It was odd. She had perfect table manners for a table of this caliber. Her back was very straight, her eyes scanned everything casually, but her face was steeled into a perfect court mask.

Very odd. Some people fell into this world rather effortlessly, but something told him that Miss Rachel was hiding something. Was there more to her story, or was she simply disguising exactly who she was? He narrowed his eyes.

"Prince?" Kori spoke up. He turned, startled out of his study of the young girl in his own party. Kori had an odd look on her face, and he smiled.

"Call me Richard." he supplied. "We are not to be formal, you and I, if we are to be married."

She smiled broadly. "Then you must call me Kori. Many from other nations find my full name to be a mouthful." she tucked red hair away from her face and looked him in the eye. Green eyes. Exotic and beautiful.

He nodded with a charming smile. "Kori, then."

**5.3**

Raven hurried from the meal when it closed and did not bother to stay for the idle, quiet conversations even though Garfield and Tara had tried to catch her attention. She knew that there was one young man who would be seeking her out and she wanted to be as far away from the Great Hall as possible when he found her.

How would she explain to Ryand'r what she was doing here? She had no idea. She would not resort to begging, but she knew that if she was revealed now, then her mission would fail. She needed to get to Bruce. He was the one who would rile the other kings to war, and give her the strength she would need.

She needed to find someone to help her tame her powers as well. Someone who wouldn't ask too many questions, but could help her focus, help her use them like she knew she was born to do.

So much to do, so little time.

She paused when she came to the open wall. She let the cool night air wash over her and felt the calm creep in. She loved the night, the cool, the wind. They helped ground her like nothing else could at this moment.

She heard him approach. Silence reigned, before: "Running away?"

Raven didn't turn to face Ryand'r. She could hear the hints of distain to his voice like blades against her skin. She replied evenly: "Enjoying the night air, Prince, nothing more."

He came up beside her and didn't bother to look at her. "I don't want to accuse you of anything, but surely you must realize that this all looks very suspicious. I suppose that Prince Richard doesn't know who you really are?"

She wanted to flinch, but couldn't be that human. Not now.

"I want to stop him like anyone else. I just have the best chance of anyone involved." She looked at him then. They both knew who she meant, and what she proposed. "But not if I die before I can rally that aid."

Ryand'r paused. "Lying to them isn't going to make them love you, or believe you are anything but a demon princess."

She closed her eyes. "If your father knew I was here? or if the prince knew who I really was? I would get no help. I need to see King Bruce. He is in the best position to believe me, and to help me do what needs to be done." The steel in her voice was unmistakable. Ryand'r heard it and knew that he would keep her secret. He didn't like that he agreed so readily.

"Lady Raven? if you harm my sister's betrothed, or any of my family, I will bring everything my nation is down upon you." he breathed, but there was little fire in his voice. She looked up and him and nodded sadly.

"Thank you, Prince Ryand'r."

**5.4**

Richard returned to his room much later, having parted ways with the Tamaranian royals only after lengthy discussions concerning the wedding, trade between their countries, and the budding alliance. Nothing had been firmly settled, but the talks had been required. Sometimes Richard hated the endless talking, the lack of action, that came with his position. Sometimes, however, he found himself bloody and battered on a field of war and wished he could be back in those endless council meetings once more.

Only proof that he was never content with what he had. As Richard pulled his jerkin and boots off, he sighed. Bare feet against the cool wood floor was a rare pleasure he indulged in just before bed when he could.

But he couldn't go off to bed yet. He needed to be sure that the members of his party had been settled. It was late, but Garfield and Tara had mentioned a night tour of the gardens, so they may not even be back yet. Rachel, however? she had fled from dinner like a terrified rabbit. Few had noticed her absence, but it had been noted that Ryand'r disappeared at the same time as well. From what Richard knew of the young Prince of Tamaran, he was an honorable and kind young man, but it was too close a coincidence that they both disappeared so quickly.

He didn't doubt Rachel's virtue. She was not the innocent blushing maid that would suggest a farmgirl or merchant class. She was probably a noble, or one of Azarath's priestesses. She had too much decorum, and kept herself far too well to be a commoner. But he still did not doubt her.

Strange that he did not. He found he trusted her implicitly. He had saved her, protected her as they rode, but somehow he did not fear for her. Somehow, he knew she was not helpless. There was deep strength there.

But it wouldn't do for the Prince and Rachel to be dallying together. He would have to politely ask about that without being crude or too direct.

He was, after all, neither brother or father to the girl. She had a right to her privacy.

Yeah. Right. That was as likely as King Bruce suddenly deciding to ally with Trigon the Terrible.

So as he simply left the room as he was, he took the few step to the guest room that had been set aside for Garfield and Tara. He did not question the choice the two made to share a room. He knew they were not intimate, but they were very close and accustomed to sleeping in the main room of Garfield's treetop home together. To split them up would have been unkind to the two youngest of the party. They were both far too edgy being here as it was.

He knocked politely, but found that they weren't back yet. No matter. He trusted that Garfield would let nothing happen to his terramage. The little shape changer was fiercely loyal and protective. Not that Tara didn't reciprocate those feelings.

No, it was really Rachel that Richard was concerned about. He crossed the hall to the little room she'd been given and rapped his knuckles on the door politely. "Miss Rachel? Are you in there? It's Richard."

There was silence for a few moments before he would have sworn he heard almost silent patters of feet. Then the door opened only a little.

"Richard?" She asked. He searched for a groggy sound to suggest he'd woken her up, but there was none. Good. She was already up.

"I just wanted to see that you had everything you needed, and that you were settled for the night." He smiled politely, but something in him shifted. When she opened the door just a little wider, he saw she was dressed in a modest white sleeping gown. Her odd short hair hung around her face, and the torchlight that kept the hall respectably lit gave her a cast of gold and red.

Something in him shifted.

"I'm find, thank you, Prince." she responded almost tersely. He nodded and moved to step back, only hesitating. He couldn't honestly ask. He couldn't. It wouldn't be proper.

"Did you and Prince Ryand'r speak much after dinner?"

He'd done it. He'd brought it up.

Rachel seemed to pale, her eyes barely widening. She was surprised, but very good at hiding it. She seemed quite accomplished and suppressing and hiding all of her emotions.

"We spoke a little. I felt a little off color after the meal and wanted some fresh air. He saw me leave and like a good host came to see if I was alright." She spoke up with barely missing a beat.

"Are you feeling better now, then?"

"Yes, thank you." She spoke up. "But I was just preparing to turn in. If that was all, Prince, I'd like to retire."

If that wasn't a dismissal, Richard couldn't have told you what was. He inclined his head. "Of course. Sleep well, Miss Rachel."

The door snapped closed and Richard found himself staring at the door for quite a long time.


	7. Irritated

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by Azar the Kinslayer**

"_I know my dreams are made of you_

_Of you and only for you_

_Your ocean pulls me under_

_Your voice tears me asunder_

_Love me before the last petal falls"_

_**-"Beauty and the Beast" by Nightwish**_

**Disclaimer – I do not own. Do not sue.**

**Author Notes – An interesting chapter, I feel. Some Raven/Kori/Richard interaction, and checking in with Tara/Gar/Victor as well. Oh and the action begins. **

**- - -**

**Chapter Seven – Irritated**

**7.1**

A week. They had been in Tamaran for one whole week, and Raven was chaffing at the delay in return to Gotham. She had known it would take longer than this, logically, but with nothing for idle hands to do and the sidelong glances she kept receiving from Prince Ryand'r she was ready to fly away again. She considered once or twice stealing a horse and leaving on her own, but her father's men were still out there, and she had no idea how to get to Gotham from here. She tapped fingers against her hip as she paced the length of the small rooms he'd stayed in from their first night here.

Today the Prince was to go riding with his Lady to be. It sickened Raven, this false courtship they were playing out. There was no real love between them. They had known one another for one week. One week. That was not enough time to draw a reasonable conclusion about someone's character and their suitability as your mate. Even she, an empath, knew that and she could see more about a person's character than most if she chose to delve into it.

A knock at the door startled her and she turned, a swirl of gray skirts and instinct making her hands glow black. She thanked the star she had been born under that she was alone. She knew she was wound too tight. Biting her lip, she crossed to the door and eased the clasp open. She opened the door just a bit and looked out to see Richard standing there. He was dressed in riding clothes, and looked rather dashing if her mind had been free enough to consider such things. He smiled in welcome, and she returned the expression as best she could, despite her stress and concern.

"Miss Rachel, I am glad to see you here. Would you be willing to join us on today's ride? The Princess's chaperone has taken a chill and rather than ask her older nurse to ride with us, I thought perhaps you would join us." he asked. She had intended to find a very quiet, very secluded place to practice her spellcraft today, but she had no reason she could give that would excuse her, so she inclined her head politely.

"I would be honored to join you, m'lord, if I had anything suitable to wear. I have only what the Queen has so generously given me to wear." Servants clothes, without the standard that would mark formal service. She had no riding habit, and while she could probably ride in these skirts, she knew quite a bit about the propriety of that and wouldn't push her luck.

"I am sure the Princess will be willing to find you something to wear." he said firmly. He offered his hand and Raven looked at him, a little surprised, before she raised her own hand to gently rest two fingers on his wrist. It was too intimate a gesture for a prince to offer a common woman, and Raven knew it. She wanted to look longer at him, to surmise his intentions, but as they reached the door to his suite, he dropped his arm and she returned her arm to her side. Her eyes narrowed as he stepped out of the main door and she spotted the princess waiting beyond.

"Miss Rachel has agreed to join us, Kori." Richard stated, and the princess smiled politely enough. Raven wasn't stupid enough to miss the raw dislike in the girl's green eyes. Raven's own violet eyes narrowed imperceptibly and she bowed politely to the princess. What in the world was that woman's problem? If she disliked the common riding with her so much, perhaps Richard shouldn't have asked her to come. When Richard looked at Raven again and smiled, it hit the sorceress. She was jealous! That was galling. What in the world did the woman have to be jealous of?

**7.2**

"So how long are we going to be here?" Tara asked finally. A week of luxury and good food and high society had been fun and all, but she was a lowest rung of the ladder kind of girl and she was also getting a little nervy from all of the servants always watching them. Garfield and Tara had no defined role in the prince's party, much like the refugee woman, Rachel. The three were always watched, and the rumors were getting larger and larger. The one that cast Garfield as the prince's personal pet (having come to light upon discovery of Garfield's talents) had angered Tara to the degree that she'd caused a minor earthquake. Thankfully it had not been linked to her yet.

"Another week or two, I guess." Garfield answered mournfully. He was as bored as Tara herself and probably felt caged with all these thick stone walls. Tara was trying to remember why they'd come with the prince, actually. She couldn't come up with a reason, and she wanted to return to the jungle where things were simple. Then again, she wanted to be with Gar too.

"No! Oh come on, I'm mindlessly bored!" Tara exclaimed. "I need some excitement!" She rolled over on her bed, one of two twin size in the room she shared with Garfield, and grinned at him. "Do you want to go into town with me? Please please please, only for a little while?" She gave him her best pouting/begging look and clasped her hands under her chin.

Victor laughed from his chair across the room. He was peering over the top of a thick, dusty old book. In the last week he had become a good friend to the two youngest members of the party, especially as he had little idea what was to be expected of him as the untrained prince's advisor. Richard seemed to handle things quite well on his own and Victor was hesitant to throw his opinions into the discussions of state.

"Does this invitation extend to me as well?" he asked almost casually. Tara grinned and bounded off of the bed.

"Yes! Oh please come with us, Victor!"

**7.3**

Raven rode behind the prince and his lady, and though they'd found a docile mare from the stables for her, her attention was still on riding and little else. If she listened too intently to what the prince or princess said, she was likely to get angry and she still wasn't the best at controlling her powers when her emotions spiked. Letting out a light sigh, she shifted her hands on her reigns.

"I think we're boring poor Rachel, Kori." Richard said with a faint smile. He must have heard the sigh. Raven might have been a little embarrassed if it had been anything more than that. As it was, she didn't care much what the prince or princess thought of her at this moment. Her mind turned to her ultimate mission and she forced a small smile.

"Nothing of the sort, m'lord." She said quite formally. "It is just such a beautiful day that I'm feeling a bit tired from all the fresh air." She was lying through her teeth, and hopefully at least Richard could see that.

"Have we kept you too long, Miss Rachel?" Koriand'r said with sickening concern. The demon in Raven stirred at the weak emotion and she forced those emotions down. Instead she forced a light laugh.

"Oh no, of course not, Princess." She said quickly. "I am fine."

Koriand'r did not look convinced and looked to her betrothed. She spoke to him this time. "Perhaps we should turn back. I think that Miss Rachel is getting just a bit sunburned, and the hour is growing late. Soon it will be the midday meal, and I am expected to eat with my mother and sister." She explained. Raven could admire at least her control of the situation. Raven had never had such control, because she had never been allowed to.

"As you wish. Now, ladies, let us turn back." With a show of expert horsemanship, he pivoted his horse and gave a smile to each beautiful young woman with him. Raven did as she'd been instructed, pulling the horse's head around. It did not want to listen, but finally Raven won and turned the horse. Of course Koriand'r performed brilliantly. Raven tried not to glower. "Rachel, I thought perhaps you were being modest when you said you were no horseman, on our journey here, but you really are not." He teased good naturedly.

She narrowed her eyes and glared. "I was not lying, Prince." She replied snappishly. Koriand'r looked between them and looked a bit distressed.

"Do not tease her, Richard! That she is not a born rider is no shock. Most have no reason to ever be up upon a horse, and have not had the training of a soldier to fall back upon." She turned earnest green eyes on Raven and Raven wondered why she couldn't hate this woman. "Please forgive him. He does not understand why a woman might fear a horse or why she might not fall into this sort of thing naturally."

Raven was mute for a moment before she inclined her head. "No damage done. There is no reason not to poke fun at what it quite obvious." She kept both hands on the reigns, but had a desire to cling instead to the pommel of the saddle. She really was not comfortable with this.

"You could ride behind me again, if you are truly that uncomfortable." Richard spoke finally, his tone not jovial anymore but a bit concerned. He hadn't meant to distress the woman. Raven felt her temper growing. She was no delicate flower, she could ride well enough to suit, and even if she did not like the feeling, she could still do what needed done.

"No thank you, Prince Richard." She replied stiffly.

They rode back to the castle in silence, and had Raven been less irritated and thinking clearly, she would have noticed the people at the edge of her perceptions.

**7.4**

The first warning came at dusk. Soldiers on the horizon, the call went out. Enemy soldiers. Demon soldiers. Rumors spread on the wind, thick and heady. Panic began to build until the king took his throne, dressed quite formally in full battle harness, and began to give orders.

Richard would fight for Tamaran, as it was the land of his betrothed. This was the alliance the marriage would solidify. Richard felt his heart in his throat as he raced about. He had not his own formal armor with him, not planning for full war. He was outfitted in the harness of a Tamaranian soldiers and went about as the king's right hand, beside the prince Ryand'r. The two would lead the soldiers into battle, as honorable princes should. Komand'r and Koriand'r were both trained archers. All members of the royal house would be in the thick of battle, for the Queen would join her daughters on the wall with the rest of the archers.

Richard did not like his betrothed to be in danger of battle, but he mused that she would be safe enough on the battlements. He stole a glance over his shoulder at her as he rode down into the city. They would take this battle outside of the city walls, to protect the people as best they could. Richard looked for a shock of red hair, to see Kori once more before he rode in defense of her lands, but spied instead Rachel. Her violet hair was black in the coming night, but there was no mistaking her. She stood on the battlements, an icon as the woman of this royal house should have been. What was she even doing out there?

"Come, Prince Richard." Ryand'r spoke from his side, and his attention was ripped to the present. How old was this man? He was younger than Richard's bride to be. Was he perhaps seventeen? Too young by far to be leading troops into battle, Richard decided. Richard himself was but three years older. Too young to be dying.

"Let us ride, Ryand'r, as brothers." He offered his gauntleted hand. Ryand'r accepted it and the two had an understanding before they turned to ride through the city's main gates.

**7.5**

Tara clung to Garfield's arm as they watched the soldiers ride past. Victor had run off moments ago, back towards the palace, but the younger two members of the party were shock still and silent. Terrified. They spied Richard towards the lead of them all, but neither called out. They had still been down at the city when the call had gone out, and now they could not get back into the main palace without some proof of who they were.

"We'll fight." Garfield decided. Tara looked at him, surprised.

"This isn't our fight!" she insisted. She could think only of herself dying at the hands of the demon soldiers beyond the walls.

"It's not Prince Richard's fight, either, and he's riding out to fight directly!" Garfield insisted. Tara shook her head.

"His wife lives here."

"Betrothed." Garfield corrected. "And he's fighting because he knows it's the right thing to do." he countered, challenging her with his eyes. She felt her stomach sink and finally nodded. If he would fight, so would she.


	8. Fallen

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by Azar the Kinslayer**

"_Why cant I be normal like everyone else?  
Why cant I become something more than myself?  
I reach and I'm trying to believe in me,  
But its just too hard to see.__"_

_**-"Going Under" by Saliva**_

**Disclaimer – I do not own. Do not sue.**

**Author Notes – More action! Character injury, healing, light feelings, battle. Lotsa fun!**

**- - -**

**Chapter Eight – Fallen**

**8.1**

As was expected, there were the confrontations to begin. A captain of the demon-king's army came forward, riding until he was just about halfway between the armies, his banner flying high. The demon-king's standard was of a black bird taking flight on a field of scarlet. Richard knew that the design was simple but it was the sort that had come to strike fear in the minds of the people who saw it. Trigon the Terrible, Demon-King of Azarath. His reputation was almost enough to win his battles for him.

"I come at behest of King Trigon of Azarath, demanding the surrender of his most precious possession." The captain spoke loud. From the battlements, Raven's breath caught and her fingers clenched around hard, rough stone. How had her father tracked her here, and so quickly? She knew he had the means to send armies across great distances in mere moments. She had seen that spell in action, and knew it to be immensely powerful. Her heart pounded.

"Precious possession?" Richard murmured from the front lines of the Tamaranian army. His own standard of green and gold flew proudly, as well as Tamaran's violet and silver. "What does he mean?" His horse knew better than to fret. It was not his own horse, for his left his war stallion in Gotham, but he had been outfitted to suit by the horsemaster of Tamaran, and he could do nothing but admire such fine horseflesh. But admiring horses had another time and place, and that was not now. He turned to Ryand'r.

"Do you know what he means? What is it the army seeks?" Richard implored, but the Tamaranian prince shook his head. He did not speak, but he did not know. But another moment could not pass without decision and action. Richard motioned for his bow and took the shot that should have unhorsed and killed the captain, but a strange field rose above him and protected him. Richard felt his heart sink and the fear swept the length of the army. How could they fight magic of that sort? Would their blades simply slide away, as rumor would have it? He turned back to look at the castle, not sure why he did it, but he could not see with clarity anyone at this distance. Some part of his mind wondered if he was seeking Rachel or Kori. But it didn't matter, he had a battle to lead.

He drew his sword and raised up in the saddle, thrusting it into the sky. Ryand'r followed his lead, and a moment later the two princes stood tall. "FOR TAMARAN!" he bellowed. The call was answered, and the charge went down, with Richard and Ryand'r leading it all.

**8.2**

Raven felt the fear of the captain's words long after he'd spoken them. She was still victim to them when Komand'r found her on the battlements, almost ten minutes into the battle on the field. The heir of Tamaran gave the girl she supposed as common a scathing glance and planted her hands on her hips.

"What are you doing here? Are you going to claim skill with a bow and aid us when if the city walls fall?" Komand'r dared the girl to say it, with her dark eyes. Raven felt her temper pique, and the fear fell away because of it. She stood tall, pushing away from the wall, and gave Komand'r an impudent bow.

"Of course not, Princess. I came to see the charge, as any other would. I have concern for my prince." Her choice of words puzzled Komand'r, and Raven herself as well. She showed such possessiveness over a man who was merely a pawn. She did not let it move her. She simply waited for the princess to speak. She could not walk away, as much as she would like to.

"Of course you would. Prince Richard and my own royal brother fair well. They are fine warriors, and your useless concern has no place on this wall. If you cannot wield a bow, be gone with you." Komand'r ordered, imperious as ever. Raven wanted to fight back, to push back with a verbal shove, but her role to be played was that much more important. She could not wield a bow, thus she must concede this battlefield, while another raged beyond the city walls.

"I will leave, then, your highness." She moved past Komand'r, but managed to catch Koriand'r's eye as the princess stood at the wall, stringing her bow. Koriand'r gave her a reassuring smile, small though it be, and Raven could not respond. She paused a moment and then was gone, down the stairs and into the bailey. She hurried back into the main of the castle, to find somewhere where she could do what must be done. She could lend some protection to the prince who she still needed alive. She chose, finally, a small private garden that she suspected she would be flayed for entering if anyone found her. She found a small bench well hidden by rose bushes and small trees, and sat with her legs crossed.

It was easy to sink into the meditative state she had been taught to seek. The familiarity of such thick peace almost lulled her into complacency, but she still had things that need be done. She had a prince who could not yet die: if he died now, she would have a hard time returning to Gotham. She told herself this as she felt her soul self leave her body and pass through endless walls of thick stone.

When she reached the battlefield in this way, her body felt quite distant. She was not sure she had pushed herself this far before, but it mattered little at this point. She found Richard after some searching and set about focusing her powers to protect him. At least once she caught a blade that could had removed him of his innards. She wasn't sure how long she fought like this, though, before she felt her body distantly tumble from that stone bench, abruptly snapping her back into flesh. She groaned, hand raised to press against throbbing temples, when she finally looked around. The small garden was still empty, and she was grateful for that.

Just as she'd been returning, the gates to the city had fallen.

**8.3**

Tara fought as she knew how, but her strikes were inexpert and driven by fear and anger. Garfield never moved too far away from her, and they watched each other's backs as best they could. They were young, though, and the battle was quickly overwhelming Tara. The first time she looked and saw the empty eyes of a demon soldier, she felt her breath catch in her throat and realized she was crying.

"Tara!" Garfield cried out. Tara spun at the sound of his voice, shocked that he was even speaking. He has been a jungle cat a moment ago, and now he was bound by two of the demon soldiers and Tara felt her heart sink. She raised a hand to knock them aside, using the very earth against them. They fell, but Tara felt the sting of her inattention. She looked down, shocked to see the blade poking out of her belly. She moved her lips, trying to speak, and Garfield screamed. Then there was darkness.

**8.4**

Richard watched Tara fall. He had no time to respond emotionally, though he knew that he was responsible for them. He should have found them before the fighting started, and ordered them to stay out of it. What had they been doing in the city of all places? He didn't think, only threw himself from the back of his horse and killed the soldier who had stabbed the girl. He didn't even think twice before he scooped her up and remounted. He scanned heads, but did not see Ryand'r. No matter, he didn't have time. He turned his horse, holding the girl close before him on the saddle, and he heard a second set of hooves behind him. He tilted his head and saw that the horse was slightly green: Garfield followed. He shouldn't have been surprised.

They rode down the very front gates, thrown open for the prince, and he was off and racing towards the healers. He had a general idea where they were working, and had Tara there within moments. He knew belly wounds were quite serious, and he didn't know if the girl had a chance to survive at all, honestly, but he had to try. Garfield had barely remembered to transform and appeared behind him as he handed Tara over to the care of the healers.

As he stepped back, blood soaked and battered, he raised a hand to keep Garfield at his side. "Let them work. You can do nothing for her now." He looked around him, and took stock of the woman and a few men that worked hard here. He was surprised to see the Queen herself here, bandaging wounds, and crossed to her.

"Majesty," he greeted tersely. She startled, looking up at her future son-by-marriage, and her green eyes took him in quickly.

"You are uninjured, Prince?" He nodded and reassured her. He would need to return to the battle soon, but he wanted word on Tara first. "Thank the gods." She smiled and almost hugged him, but the grim room was enough to keep the relief short lived. "What brings you here, then?" She asked, and concern was again on her face.

"One of my party was injured in the fighting, and I brought her here myself." The Queen's concern deepened and she looked to the small blonde young woman that they were treating now.

"I will see to her myself." she promised and hurried past the prince. Richard closed his eyes and gave a prayer over to the gods, hoping Tara would not die. He looked at Garfield and his brain began moving faster.

"I need you to act as my squire." It was strange, as Garfield was so close to Richard's own age, but he needed someone to run for him and the man needed something to do but to stand here and worry. He looked for a moment as if he would argue, but finally he nodded. "Good, I need you to tell the Princess Koriand'r that you saw me and tell her I am well." he paused and considered. "And find Rachel. Bring her here. She can fetch and carry if nothing else." And that would keep the violet haired woman fairly safe, all things considered. He was concerned that he'd seen her on the battlements already today, and he'd had the sinking feeling that she was in danger. He'd learned to trust these instincts long ago. "Can I trust you to do this, Garfield?"

"Yes, sir." the younger man replied, and was gone. Richard wiped his brow and turned to go back to find his horse, to return to the battle. If the palace walls fell, they would be in grave danger.

**8.5**

Garfield took care of his message to Koriand'r first, because he knew where to find her. She was glad of the news from the prince, and pressed a kiss to his cheek in thanks. He blushed a bit, but then was reminded of Tara laying almost dead below and his mood darkened. She was concerned with the shift, but he left before she could ask. Finding Rachel proved to be quite a bit more difficult. He finally found her walking very slowly through the halls towards the battlements. He caught her elbow and she summoned surprising energy and yanked her arm away.

"What's wrong, Rachel?" he asked, earnestly concerned. Her color was poor and she looked as if she'd been through hell. She looked blearily at him and finally spoke.

"Nothing. I am fine." she said stiffly. He wanted to press on, but was still too concerned for Tara to argue with her.

"The prince wants you to help the healers." She looked pained for a moment before she nodded. He turned to lead the way. If she did not want his help, despite looking as if she needed it, he wouldn't offer it. They walked in silence, but he chaffed her slow walk. He wanted to see Tara, wanted to speak to her. What if she'd already died, what if… He closed his eyes as they pushed open the door to the room.

Rachel looked around and Garfield ignored her. He went straight to Tara's side. She looked pale, and pained, and she wasn't awake. He bit his lip and looked up at the Queen, who was tending the girl herself.

"Your Majesty," He mimicked Richard's title for her, hoping it was right. "Is she…"

"I am sorry. She will probably not survive the night." The Queen replied, looking mournful and touched his shoulder. He felt the stab of guilt of pain and fear. He looked down at her and took one of her hands, clasping it, and clenched his eyes closed.

Rachel had appeared beside them, and she seemed to consider for a long time before she spoke. "I have some healing gifts. May I try to help her?"

The Queen looked startled but finally nodded and moved aside to let the girl sit beside Tara. She peeled back the bandaging and looked at the wound, which was already quite frightening, and placed her hands quite gently on either side, on Tara's stomach.

**8.6**

It was chancy to offer. Not many had natural healing gifts, but Raven's came from her mother. The nature of hers was influenced by her father's demon blood, though. To take this wound into herself, as was the nature of her healing gift, was risky. She had a larger threshold for physical pain and damage to her body. If the wound had been directly inflicted to her, she could have survived quite easily, but taking the wound upon herself was harder. She could not afford to die, though, nor let this girl die either. She had grown fond of her, though she'd never admit it.

She closed her eyes and delved into Tara's open consciousness. She took the pain, the fear, and the last bit she took was the physical wound. As Tara's closed and mended expertly, only moments passing, Raven felt the same wound appearing below her gown. She hissed in pain and felt all of her breath leave her. She panted, desperately trying to hold out until Tara was completely healed before she gave into the pain.

When finally she could do no more, she rose, felt the ground shift, and passed out cold onto the stone floor of the healer's house.


	9. Threatened

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by burn to ashe**

"_Risk something, take back what's yours  
Say something that you know they might attack you for  
Cause I'm sick of being treated like I have before  
Like it's stupid standing for what I'm standing for_"

_**-"Hands Held High" by Linkin Park**_

**Disclaimer – I do not own. Do not sue.**

**Author Notes – As if anyone was expecting an update before this. **

**- - -**

**Chapter Nine – **

**9.1**

The battle ended in a draw. The demon-king's troops pulled back after their brutal assault, but the Tamaranians could not call it victory. They had lost too much to call it a victory. Ryand'r and Richard returned to battle together, fighting not to show the weariness that plagued them both. They entered the main of the keep and saw that their injured were hauled off, that their men would find food and wine to cool their throats. They had fought hard and well that day.

"Your Highnesses!"

Richard spun to intercept the messenger, muscles screaming in protest. His heart fell when he saw the messenger a young woman, blood streaked and distressed. She was coming to him, not her own prince, and he feared Tara had died. The expression on the young woman's face was enough to assume the worst.

"Your Highness, Prince Richard, please, come now with me to the House of Healing." she said breathlessly.

"The girl, Tara, has she-"

"No, no, she has recovered. It is Miss Rachel who-"

His stomach sank. Rachel. He'd wanted so badly for her to remain here, to remain safe. How had she gotten hurt? He raced after the messenger, and overtook her in the final stretched despite his own fatigue. He came into the healer's domain with trepidation, and spotted his companions readily. Garfield took him in and moved aside when the prince approached. His arms were around Tara, who was even on her feet. He was confused by that at first, and then he saw Rachel.

Confusion etched itself onto his face.

"How?" he managed around a constricted throat.

The queen herself closed her fingers around his forearm and gave him a concerned look. "I do not quite understand it. She spoke of healing gifts before she turned to help Tara; when she had worked her magics, the girl bore no wound. It had transferred to this one. A dangerous omen."

Richard chaffed the queen's superstitious tone. He had no patience for portents and ill omens, not now. He turned to the queen herself, and another healer at her elbow.

"Tell me she will live."

"She may not." the queen replied. He felt his throat tighten and he looked to her. "She chose this for herself. She chose to save the girl, Richard."

Tara winced, but Richard didn't see her, didn't want to see her. His world narrowed to Rachel alone. He sank to the chair next to her bed and took her hand.

"I refuse to believe she wished to die here." he said stiffly, cradling her pale hand. Tense silences surrounded them, until she gave his hand a gentle squeeze in reply. She would be alright: she had to be.

**9.2**

Koriand'r raced to her brother's side when he appeared in the family solar, the quiet room that was private to the royal family. No one else was entitled entrance, and no one else intruded. She embraced him as, exhausted, he sank onto a soft couch. She framed his face before kissing his forehead and moving to pour him a cup of wine.

"You are unhurt, brother? How went the battle? Speak on."

He gave her a tired smile, and caught her wrist when she tried to pull away. "We fought well, despite our great losses. Your intended fought among the best, defending Tamaran loyally." She flushed with pride at the words, though concern finally showed through her pride. She felt such pain for her countrymen.

"Where is Richard? Has he taken an injury?"

"No, no. A messenger came to him. A member of his party took an injury during the battle. I fear the girl will not survive it."

Kori winced. She closed her eyes and perched on the edge of the low table, set before the couch. Her thigh touched her brother's knee as they sat opposite one another. "I do not know how to comfort that hurt." she replied. "Which of the girls?"

"Rachel, I believe." Despite herself, Kori felt a rush of satisfaction. She held her head up, proud, and Ryand'r touched her arm. "He was close to her. I had the impression they were good friends." he said gently. Koriand'r paused before she nodded. It was petty of her to think otherwise of a girl who was dying. She rose, then, and gave Ryand'r's hand a squeeze.

"I will go to him. He will need me."

**9.3**

Richard was not to be found in the healer's house when Koriand'r arrived. Neither Garfield nor Tara nor their companion, the mage Victor. Rachel alone lay in a darkened corner, in a cot that could be used for the injured soldiers that needed it, not a girl dying. Koriand'r did not know why, but she felt threatened by this dark haired girl, and felt ridiculous for it. She sat for a time by the girl's bedside, unsure why, but she eventually surmised that the girl was not dying.

With that revelation in hand, she resolved to stop with her silly jealousies. Richard was simply close with the girl, they had shown no sign of being lovers or more intimate than companions. It was childish of her to be building a conspiracy in her mind this way.

"Daughter,"

Koriand'r looked up, surprised, to find her mother. She smiled warmly, and Lunad'r touched her daughter's hair with a gentle hand.

"She will live. Richard was greatly relieved to hear it, and has gone to his chambers to rest. He deserves it."

"Ryand'r told of my intended's greatness in battle." she replied. "It brings me pride to hear it."

"And me, as well." she paused. "You are content with him, then? Do you feel you can live with our choice for you?"

Koriand'r considered and then smiled, shyly, as a maiden with a crush must.

"Yes, mother. I believe I can."

**9.4**

"Escape. That was clever of you. Clever clever clever, little Raven, but now I've found you."

She whimpered. She couldn't help it, the sound escaped her lips despite herself. After a moment, she realized that perhaps it wasn't her lips. She was trapped in her own dream. It was one of her father's skills, one that if she possessed, she would never use. The basest invasion of privacy, and degrading to all involved.

Sight was beyond her for a moment, until she realized she was wrapped in thick darkness. Darkness and pain and fear. She was trapped here, alone and afraid. She wrapped arms about herself, using everything she could muster of herself to keep her mind her own. He might speak to her, but she kept her plans and her intentions to herself.

"You know I will destroy Tamaran to get to you, and it will be as nothing to me. Nothing but the merest of distractions. Already you are hurt, dear daughter, already you know that you cannot fight forever. Even in death, you cannot escape me."

She clamped her mouth shut, unable to speak, unable to fight him or reply. She simply was, and she was trapped.

"Only by coming to me, will I spare Tamaran. Only through your surrender, can you save the silly little friends you've made."

Images torn from her mind. Garfield, Tara, Victor, Ryand'r. Richard. Booming laughter assaulted her, and she fought to keep her mind in tact, while fighting fear away.

"Think on it. Think of what I can do, and what you can. You are not stupid, child. I trust to see you before dawn."


	10. Choiceless

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by burn to ashe**

"_Send away for a priceless gift_

_One not subtle, one not on the list_

_Send away for a perfect world_

_One not simply so absurd_"

_**-".45" by Shinedown**_

**Disclaimer – I do not own. Do not sue.**

**Author Notes – Alright, now that summer has started, I'm going to try to churn out chapters to this at a regular pace. It was always going to be a very long story, and it's not even close to being completed yet. Remember, reviews are like candy. They make me work faster. Also there are some hints of Ryand'r/Raven in this chapter. I am unsure how they got there, but I'm fond of it. Don't worry, the story is still overall Raven/Robin. **

**Also I'm curious if anyone would be interested in a fanmix/soundtrack based on this story so far? I've been working on it for my own purposes but I'd be willing to share if there is interest. Lemme know guys!**

**- - -**

**Chapter Ten – Choiceless**

**10.1**

Richard stood in his own chambers for a long time, muscles tight and unable to unwind. He was crusted with dirt and blood and fear, and no matter how hard he desired sleep, he doubted it would come this night. He should bathe, he knew. Instead he peeled out of his dirty clothes, cursing that he'd already dismissed his servants, and pulled on clean clothing and his boots. If he couldn't sit still, he wouldn't try it.

He paused as he passed the small room within his own suite that was Rachel's. It was dark and empty, of course, with the girl laid up in the house of healing this night. She would survive, they said. He was relieved at that, but for a common girl to have such powers... strange, at the best of times. His mind was not sharp enough to contemplate what it could mean for her to have them; he contented himself with the knowledge that she would live.

Richard thought to wander aimlessly, but nothing he ever did was aimless. He was too well trained by his adoptive father to ever let himself be truly idle. He first found himself on the walls of the palace, watching the horizon. The demon armies had retreated, but Richard doubted the attack was over. Guards, of course, had been posted, and sentries were roaming the land outside of the city. If trouble came, they would have better warning this time. Content with this, or at least forcing himself to be, he left the walls with a nod to a sentry and returned inside the castle.

Several times now he had considered returning to the house of healing, but he couldn't see Rachel until he'd worked things out in his own mind. Tired as he was, he knew something wasn't right. He barely knew most of his companions, but it was Rachel he found himself most concerned with. Perhaps because she removed herself from the others, and kept quiet and alone. She seemed almost lonely, but as a queen keeps herself from her people to better protect them, Rachel kept herself from her companions. The analogy did not make sense, but felt right. Richard pondered it, but then decided it was true. She was a healer, for one. She had protected Tara.

"Your Highness, are you lost?"

Richard looked startled when the guard spoke to him. Richard glanced at his surroundings. He was close to the house of healing.

"Not lost. Sleepless, perhaps." he offered in return. The guard smiled grimly.

"Of course, my lord. Is there anything I can help you with?" The guard was hopeful and Richard did not want to leave a poor impression with him.

"Could you have someone send wine to my room?" he asked. The guard bowed slightly.

"Of course, my lord. I hope you find your sleep, sir." And the guard turned and left. Richard watched him go, and turned to the left, with the tall wooden door that marked the house of healing and sturdy stone walls. He stepped to the door, grasped the handle, and pulled the door open.

A girl, and she was barely more than a child, stirred at his entrance, clearly preparing to scold him for coming so late, but recognized him and bowed, motioning him past silently. Richard did, though he felt bad for waking her. He walked quickly back to the bed Rachel had been laid upon hours ago, and paused, his heart sinking, his stomach clenching painfully, when he realized it was empty.

**10.2**

Raven ran. It hurt to run, of course, but walking was too slow. She had lost a lot of blood, they had said. She'd heard them, without being awake. She did not know how she had, and at this moment she did not have time to consider it. She was wearing the same bloodied gown she'd had on when she had taken Tara's wound into herself. Her short hair was ragged and unbrushed around her face, a face too pale for a whole host of reasons.

She would not turn herself in to him. She couldn't, not yet. But she would leave, steal a horse, and find her own way to Gotham and fast. She wasn't thinking straight, but considering dawn was only an hour or so away, she simply had to run.

It was becoming a trend, she would later note, that when she least wanted to see him, Ryand'r appeared. She stumbled into the prince in the hall, her desperation nearly tangible. Already she was fighting her powers to keep them under control. The prince caught her as she stumbled, and he helped right her. Ryand'r looked down at her, and were she thinking straight she would have seen the concern evident.

"What frights you?" the prince asked. He let drop no titles or names, as if he were unsure what to call this enigma of a woman. Raven teetered on her feet and closed her eyes as dizziness plagued her.

"Prince Ryand'r," she desperate to ask him for his aid. "please, you must help me. I must escape the capital before dawn." The prince knew who she was, but he did not judge her. He believed in her drive to fight the demon armies, and even if it was her presence that brought them here, war was inevitable. He had believed that for some time.

"You cannot go alone, you will be captured surely. And what will your companions think?" Ryand'r tried to reason with her. She was mad with fear and looked so frail. He knew better. She herself was half demon, she could break him now if she so desired. She did not, she simply clung to his tabbard and pressed her forehead against his chest, as if seeking the comfort and solace of his warmth and strength. He held her upright, unsure if she could do it for herself.

"It I stay, my father will attack in full force by dawn. I cannot be the cause of your people's suffering." she whispered low, almost intimate. Ryand'r felt his grip tighten on her. He wanted to protect her. "Please, Prince Ryand'r."

"He cannot defeat my people so easily. Father has called for the full armies to be assembled. By noon tomorrow, all of Tamaran's armies will stand to defend this place. The demon king will not find the fight so easy to win." Ryand'r explained. Raven looked up at him and considered what he said. "If you leave now, the elements alone would claim your life, and your cause will be just as surely lost. Stay, Raven."

She closed her eyes at her true name and finally nodded. "I can only hope you are right, Prince Ryand'r."

"I would think we are beyond formalities by this stage, Princess. Please, call me Ryand'r." he asked of her. Terrible truths were becoming evident to him and he wanted to pretend he knew nothing just yet. It was easier than he might have imagined.

"Only when we are alone, but then, yes, I will... Ryand'r." She took a deep breath, quite unsure of herself, and nodded. "Thank you. I am not often so irrational, but... what you say makes great sense."

"Each person has times of irrationality. It is their friends that stand to help them find their true course in such times." Ryand'r replied. "I am glad to help you regain your reason."

"You speak great wisdom."

"Rachel! What is this?" It was Richard who demanded as he approached. He was hot, angry and concerned, though it was only the anger that showed through. He was irrational having found her pressed against the chest of the younger prince. He moved forward to grasp her arm and drag them apart. Ryand'r caught Richard's arm, lacking gauntlet, and wrenched it in the opposite direction. In all this, Raven was thrown about. She hissed at them both. "I find you missing from the house of healing only to be in the arms of a man?"

Ryand'r felt all of his protective instincts rising to the surface. "Leave her be! Your anger has no place-"

"She is a member of my party, she need have more decorum than this." Richard snapped back. "You dishonor me, you-"

"Enough!" she snapped and pulled free with surprising strength. She swayed on her feet, but glared at Richard with great force. "My decorum is my own. You should not jump to conclusions! What I was doing was innocent, but I need offer no excuses to you. I am not your subject, mistress, nor even your friend."

She left. Richard was too slack jawed to respond, which was rare. He left in the opposite direction, fuming, but Ryand'r was watching Raven until she disappeared around a corner and was gone. Somehow Ryand'r felt the weight of dread fill him, and he wondered what this fight would mean.

**10.3**

Raven returned to her small rooms, still fuming and furious. She would have liked some distance and time to get her emotions under control. As it was, she wasn't sure that her powers wouldn't go haywire and destroy the first person who walked through that door behind her.

She had to regain control, though. She still needed to figure out what she would do on the coming day. Her father would attack. People would die for her. She was not stupid, she understood that she would be asking men to die for her when she asked the allied kingdoms to face Trigon, but this was different. This was not clean warfare, but something personal made larger on a grand scale. She was uncomfortable with it, to put it mildly.

She was pacing the length of her room, but it was small and no answers were written in the wood grain of the floor or the print of her bedspread. With a madness not her own, she pulled pins and the like out of her hair, tossing them on the small vanity in the corner. She stood before she mirror and studied her reflection and her mad hair. She ran fingers through it, taking a moment to marvel as the shortness of it. She still could not believe her impulse to cut it. She had never had short hair before.

A long time ago, Raven might have considered her fortunes unfair, but she had long ago left that impulse behind her. She had her own lot. She just to figure this out. She could do it. Glancing about the little room and sighed and closed her eyes. She pushed upward and felt herself floating. Underneath the gown, she crossed her legs.

i"Azarath Metrion Zinthos."/i Calm. Clear the mind. Cleanse the mind. She would find the answer if she could only clear her mind of her distractions. She floated, clear and calm, until something went wrong. At first she couldn't tell that it was something physical, but once her consciousness returned to her body she felt the hand over her mouth and the arm pinning her own to her sides. She tried to scream, but it was muffled.

The face she looked into was masked, and the man was much larger than her. The mask covered half of his face, and was bronze and terrifying. She swung her leg back and struck him in the kneecap, but yelped when she found him armored.

"Darling Raven, calm yourself. I merely want to talk to you." She stiffened, but stopped squirming. "If you scream, I will be forced to make your life more difficult, do you understand." She paused and finally nodded. He released her, and she spun away, hands glowing black.

"Who are you?"

"You may call me Slade."

"You work for my father." she accused.

"You could say that." he said mildly. "I'm here to reinforce his position, princess." he said with an amused drawl to his voice. "Your daddy dearest would oh so hate to see you try something stupid."

"How would he know what I'm going to do? As you can see I am still here, not doing something stupid." she countered acidly.

"That you haven't surrendered to him yet could easily qualify, if you do not mind my impertinence, princess." He smirked. She couldn't see the smirk, but she could hear it in his voice. She narrowed her eyes.

"Tell me what you've come to say and be gone, unless you intend to deliver me to my father yourself." she said with all the regality she could muster. She turned back to her vanity and lifted a brush, as if this conversation was nothing to her, and she slowly began brushing her short hair. The intruder came up behind her, easily a head taller than her, and simply stood there, studying her reflection in the mirror. Her hand stilled on the brush, and then fell to her side. She shuddered.

"It is a shame. You really are such a lovely girl."

She gritted her teeth and turned, but the intruder was completely gone by the time she did. She hadn't heard her door open, either, which sent her to her knees, weak and frightened. She was not a wilting flower, but real fear sank into her bones.

"By Azar," she breathed. "I don't know what to do." she whispered.

**10.4**

Koriand'r watched with wide eyes as her betrothed took to the battlements and pacing like some great demon had settled on his shoulders. There was hate in his eyes, fire in his stride. She would not have made herself known, had he not noticed her after a few moments of his pacing, muttering to himself. She could not hear what he said until he raised his eyes to look at her.

"I apologize, Princess, I did not realize you were there. I thought to release my ill mood into the air without an audience." he said stiffly, but not without affection. Kori stepped lightly towards him.

"What troubles you, Friend Richard?" she asked, inquisitive. "I can help-"

"No, no, trouble yourself not. It is nothing but an irritation, and I am sure it will be settled before overlong." he gave her a very forced smile and turned to look over the horizon, dark as it was. He knew the danger that awaited them. It was late and he had not slept at all. He needed to rest for some time if the adrenaline would allow.

"Alright." she said doubtfully. "Are you sure I can do nothing?"

He looked at her and sighed. "Let us talk, then." He leaned against the battlements and closed his eyes. After all this fighting, he had been thinking. He doubted he would be able to get back to Gotham until winter. This army was not going away in a few days, and after a season of fighting ti would take more than a week or so to recover. By then, plans for a wedding would be a moot point. At least... he wasn't sure how to word his next phrase.

"Kori... I know it seems abrupt, but I think that we should move the wedding up. As soon as it can be arranged, we wed." Before anything could happen to either of them.

Kori hesitated and nodded. She slowly smiled and looked at her husband to be with great appreciation in her eyes. "You have done much good for my people, Richard of Gotham. I would be honored to marry you, as soon as it can be arranged." she said softly, but earnestly. She paused, and Richard was too busy looking away from her to notice her approach. She took his hand and turned his face towards her. He was a little startled. "Our marriage may not be built on love, my prince, but it can be built from respect and honor."

Richard wasn't sure what she meant at first, and really wasn't sure after, but he leaned towards her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Of course, my princess. I will never betray you."

She smiled brightly and turned abruptly as the first dawn appeared over the horizon. It felt like a good omen.


	11. Resiliant

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by burn to ashe**

"_Call me a sinner, call me a saint  
Tell me it's over I'll still love you the same  
Call me your favorite, call me the worst  
Tell me it's over I don't want you to hurt  
It's all that I can say. So, I'll be on my way_"

_**-"Call Me" by Shinedown**_

**Disclaimer – I do not own. Do not sue.**

**Author Notes – This chapter is one I've been looking forward to for some time. It actually contains the original scene that convinced me to write this story. This chapter might be longer for it, too, but bear with me. I hope you all still enjoy where this is headed. I didn't originally intend for this Tamaran arc to be quite this long, but it has evolved from what it once was as much as this story has. **

**- - -**

**Chapter Eleven – Resiliant**

**11.1**

Raven had not slept much after the intruder left. She heard Richard return to his room late into the night, and wondered where he had been. But he did not knock on her door nor even pause before it when he did enter, so she paid little mind to that arrogant bastard of a prince. She kept expecting the call to battle, the alarm that the demon king's troops attacked now, but dawn came and went and the attack never came. Raven had never known her father to back down from a fight, especially one he was sure he had already won.

Raven washed her face and hands, and finally stripped out of that blood stained gown, tossing it aside. A maid would take it away and she would doubtless never see it again. She would not mourn it being gone, either. She would prefer the memories of... had that been only yesterday?... never return to haunt her. She was well and beyond exhausted, but she carefully tended herself and hoped that the dark circles under her eyes did not ruin the entire illusion of a woman well put together.

A clean gown and the clean face did wonders, she decided. A brush through her hair and a few pins to keep it off of her neck finished it. She did not bother to try and smile, and as she stood before the vanity she saw in her mind the haunting image of that bronze mask. Her hands shook as she clasped a loose belt around her hips and turned to leave her room. She hesitated at the door. Despite their fight last night, Raven did not want to wake the prince if he was finally resting. She slowly turned the knob and stepped into the main room, surprised to find that he was already dressed and gone, it seemed.

Promising herself that she simply did not care, she turned to the main door and stepped into the corridor. She spared no thought to where he could be. Once in the main corridor, Raven hesitated. She had expected a call to war this morning, not the too still quiet that greeted her. Where would she go? "Miss Rachel?" one of the footmen called. Startled, she turned and looked at him. He looked surprised and a little concerned. "I thought you were laid up in the House of Healing, miss." he asked politely, trying to cover his surprise.

She replied with politeness but no smile. "I found myself unable to sleep there, and returned to my room late in the night. You wouldn't be able to tell me where to find the members of my party, would you?" she asked. The footman nodded.

"All have gone to breakfast in the Queen's solar. You were invited, but the queen assumed you to still be bedridden. I will escort you myself, Miss Rachel." The footman said. He motioned to his friend that he was going, and led Raven through the halls of the castle with sure steps, though he walked slowly. She knew it was because she had been so gravely injured only the day before. He was kind, and she wondered if that kindness were a blessing or a curse. The footman wrapped on the door twice, and it opened to find a servant inquiring what the matter was. "I am escorting Miss Rachel."

From inside, she heard Garfield cry out. "You're alright!" He jumped out of his seat and bounded towards her, embracing her when he reached her. She was startled by the abrupt physical contact and looked at the younger man in shock. "Rae, I'm so glad you're alright." he smiled at her, and she felt her stomach clench painfully. "Come on, I saved you a seat in case you felt up to coming."

As she entered, the royal women of Tamaran studied her. The queen was shocked to see her up and being dragged as she was. The older girl looked calculating. The younger looked torn, as she always did when she studied Raven. As she was seated beside Garfield, and watered wine set at her elbow, she murmured an apology to those gathered.

"No need to apologize, Rachel. We should have considered you may be hungry despite your injuries." the queen replied graciously. "And you are just in time to hear an announcement." The queen had a prideful smile on her face, and Raven wondered why it gave her a cold chill. "My daughter and Prince Richard have decided to move the wedding up. By the end of the month, the two will be married."

Raven swore silently, though spoke words of congratulations as much as the next. With the chaos of a new bride to be considered, it would be harder to get the attention of the King of Gotham, and to convince him to rally the known world against Trigon. Her plans had just become more difficult.

"Rae, are you sure you're alright?" Victor spoke up very quietly from her right, and she nodded. She wasn't sure when her party had come to calling her Rae, but she found it comforting rather than irritating.

"If no one else is gonna go here, then I will. Why hasn't Trigon attacked?" Tara said abruptly, breaking the jovial mood of the room. The princesses looked flustered, and Raven dared a look at Richard for the first time. His hand tightened around his fork and his eyes turned hard. She felt her stomach sink.

"Maybe he got tired of getting beat?" Victor suggested almost comically when no one else supplied an answer.

"No," Raven spoke up, and cursed herself for it. Richard's eyes turned on her and she could feel the anger of their unresolved fight mingle with his hatred of Trigon's army. "I do not believe that is quite it." she replied democratically. "He does not seem the type to just turn back if things do not go his way." she added softly as she pushed a pile of potatoes around on her plate. She hated all of those eyes on her.

"Miss Rachel speaks truth." Kori replied. "I do not believe Trigon the Terrible would have earned his name this way."

"He isn't done then. He waits until we're distracted, we're weak, and he attacks again." Richard said sharply. He closed his eyes and pushed away from the table. "Your Majesty, I seem to have lost my appetite. I apologize." Richard turned to go, and Victor hurried after him. Those remaining at the table exchanged wary glances. A few moments after Richard had departed, Raven stood.

"I find myself feeling light headed, your Majesty." she gave by way of explanation. It worked, but too well, and she found herself walking with Garfield and Tara back towards her room.

"Are you sure you're alright, Rachel?" Tara asked from one side of her. "You look pale." Mentally, Raven rolled her eyes. She was always pale.

She did not have time to formulate an answer, though. They came from the walls. Black nothings at first that Raven almost immediately recognized as her father's conjurings. When they sprang from floors, ceilings, walls, they became solid creatures. They were obviously still conjures, not real soldiers; they were all identical creations. The first one she saw she ducked. She cursed her luck. With Garfield and Tara present, she could not use her powers. She ducked and dodged, turning and spinning aside, but despite how much her powers danced at her fingertips she did not reach for them.

Tara reacted before Garfield, and ripped a hung of stone from the banister to use as a weapon. Her control was not perfect, but her aim was good and she took several out who were likely to impale Garfield. Garfield alternated between very small and very large animals, dodging and hitting the enemy in turn. Watching them, Raven missed the enemy with her in its sights, and was tackled down a flight and a half of stairs before she rolled to a halt with the enemy on top of her, its hands wrapped around her throat and squeezing the life out of her.

She clawed at his grip. She could not cry out for help. For once, she hoped that someone had seen her fall. She felt pain, but the most overwhelming pain she felt was the burning of her throat and chest. She needed air. She opened her eyes, gone white, and was going to risk being seen to save her life before Garfield saved her. In the form of a jungle cat, he tackled the enemy right off of her. She inhaled sharply, gagging and coughing on the sudden flood of air to her lungs. She rolled over, hissing when she found that she'd wretched her knee as well, somehow, in the fall. She lay still, but knew she needed to get up. She couldn't do it.

**11.2**

Richard and Victor were alone in the corridor when the attack hit them. Richard found himself cursing his lack of sword as he was tackled sideways against a wall. He heard Victor cursing and swearing near at hand, and the hallway lit blue as Victor fought back against the onslaught. Richard was barefisted as he fought, and he had blood draining down his hand before he reached the side of his friend and companion.

"We're outnumbered, Richard." Victor yelled to him with no presumption whatsoever. Richard swore to himself and thought quickly. He could either fight himself towards the barracks, where the men could be rallied to fight, but surely someone else would do that. Then he remembered the breakfast he had left moments ago. The queen had a few guardsmen with her, but she had been left relatively helpless, as well as the elder princess and...

"Kori," he whispered. He turned and took off as fast as he could run, dodging, engaging only when he had to. They were thinning around him, but he didn't notice, too intent upon protecting his bride to be. He came to a staircase with the banister gone and swore. How bad had the fighting gotten here? Then he saw Garfield and Tara at the foot of the stairs. That answered how the banister had been broken. He intended to let them be, they seemed to be holding their own, until he spotted Rachel with one atop her, hands about her throat.

Despite his anger, his heart skipped a beat and he made a mad leap halfway down the stairs, landing in a pile of his own limbs. He fought to his feet, but Garfield has already gotten rid of the problem atop her. She rolled to the side, gagging and then terrifyingly still. He darted to her side.

"Rachel?" he asked carefully. "Are you alright?"

She groaned but finally responed in a voice rusty and hard, not her own. "I think I'll be fine." He could see the bruising already, forming below her jaw and all down her throat, in the shape of fingers. She rubbed at her throat, but it seemed as if nothing when she tried to stand and cried out. He caught her before she could tumble into a pile, and held her upright.

"My knee," she explained before he could ask. "I twisted it when he knocked me down the stairs." she hissed. Despite the fighting still going on around them, Richard found himself unable to release her. She looked up at him and those rich violet eyes were colored in her own pain. And yet they remained clear. Despite her ordeal thus far, no tears pricked her eyes. That seemed to be too true with this woman. She was not like a Gotham woman he might meet.

Without warning, he shifted and lifted her off of her feet. "Garfield, Tara, draw back to the breakfast room. Protect the queen!" He would protect all of the royal women. Rachel said nothing about his decision to lift her up, but he noted that she wasn't laying her forehead against his chest and resting. She had craned her head about to watch for danger.

He had been thinking it for some time, of course, but in that moment he knew that this woman was no peasant or farmer. She had been trained in the arts of war, of fighting, of self preservation. She fought and and healed too well. Her lie should have hurt, but now it intrigued him and his eyes darkened as he thought of her in the arms of the prince the night before. Who was this mysterious woman who inspired desire, lust, possession in the men around her so easily? Even Garfield was devoted to protecting her, and the footmen as well.

What was it? He would find out. He swore it. His theories did not make him content with her.

"Richard," Tara spoke up as she struggled to keep up with his pace. "What are these things?"

"I do not know, but perhaps Miss Rachel does." Richard spoke up. The girl turned to look at him abruptly. Too abruptly. It was not puzzlement in her eyes, but a splash of fear.

"Why would I know anything, my lord?" she asked too cautiously.

"Why indeed." he snapped. Tara backed off, returning to Garfield's side and near Victor, who struggled behind. As the breakfast room neared, Richard leaned close to Rachel's ear and whispered to her. "If you know anything about these things that might help us, I suggest you tell us. I will tear you apart if I find you lie to me."

She shuddered, but said nothing.

**11.3**

They found the breakfast room better defended than Richard had imagined. The women were armed with bows and arrow, and the footmen all had swords. Richard receieved a sword when he entered, after placing Rachel near a wall. The queen went to the young woman and settled in to see if she could heal her at all.

"You are not the luckiest young woman I have ever met, Rachel." the queen said good naturedly. She was examining Rachel's knee, and trying not to make concerned noises. It was more than sprained, it was damaged. Without her healing supplies and the longer the injury went without treatment, the more permanent damage there would be.

"I come to agree with you, your majesty." Rachel whimpered as cool, firm hands studied the bruising and the turn of the knee. The two spoke a little, all polite and neutral conversation, and neither said anything about the occasional dark looks Richard sent her way.

**11.4**

"Friend Richard, you are uninjured, yes?" Kori looked her betrothed over with a concerned eye, her bow near at hand should another wave of those strange creatures attack. Despite having been unarmed, it seemed the only injury the prince had received was the cut on his knuckles that had already been cleaned and tended to by Kori herself. Now she closed a tanned hand on his forearm to still his pacing. They were in a far corner of the solar, and at the other end Kori's mother tended the girl Rachel. Kori had wondered how only Rachel had received serious injury thus far.

"I am fine, Kori. Do not concern yourself for me." Richard said gruffly. Kori would have recoiled, but she recognized the mood. Her father often had it when the season of war arose. Richard was cornered, wired too tightly, and afraid for those he cared about. Kori watched his eyes steal across the room to where Rachel laid. Once his gaze would have been full of warmth. Today his eyes were hard, violent things. She shuddered to think of them ever turned upon her in that light.

"You are to be my husband, it is my duty to concern myself with you, Richard." she smiled up at him, hoping to lift his mood at least a little. He closed his eyes and the corner of his mouth lifted. A smirk was better than nothing. He turned to her and she brightened further. "It is not that bad. The men seem to have little trouble pushing these strange demonic enemies back. A few injuries have been reported, but not many. Rachel seems to be the worst of them."

She knew the moment the words were out of her mouth that she had said the wrong thing. Richard's eyes turned on her and narrowed.

"Yes, they do seem to be the worst, don't they?" he hissed darkly.

"Richard, what is wrong between you and Rachel?" she demanded. "She is a member of your own party, what could be the problem?"

Richard said nothing but after a long moment of tense silence, he excused himself from her side. She watched him go to speak with the soldiers and felt her stomach clench with ice. She did not want to admit it, but she suspected that Richard was becoming a great danger, but whether that danger was to himself or to Rachel or her people, she could not yet tell.

**11.5**

Trigon's troops returned when he ordered, disappearing into nothingness at his whim. He looked around at his few commanders, who couldn't decide what his day's example was to prove.

"You did not succeed in extracting the princess, you didn't kill a great number, what could you possibly have gotten out of this?" one demanded. Trigon laughed to himself and raised a hand. Hellfire rose at his command and consumed the man. The others quickly hushed, and Trigon smiled to himself.

Oh he had accomplished much this day, for he had finally learned his daughter's master plan. She intended to go to Gotham, to turn the entire continent against him. The plan amused him so much that he gave the order for full retreat. They would march through the night, and turn their attentions northward, to Gotham. He would not attack just yet, either. He wanted to watch her plan play out and watch it fall in on top of her.

"Do you think they will ever accept you, daughter dearest? Did you think you could pass as human?"

He was laughing all the way back to his own tent.


	12. Discovered

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by burn to ashe**

"_When it comes to how to live his life  
He can't be told  
Says he's got it all under control  
Thinks he knows it's not a problem he's stuck with _"

_**-"Carousel" by Linkin Park**_

**Disclaimer – I do not own. Do not sue.**

**Author Notes – The lie changes in this chapter. I would like to point out that Raven is not found out, not at all. She still has time yet to work her lie into a really big one. But drama in this chapter, and Raven watches a wedding that has no meaning for her. **

**- - -**

**Chapter Twelve – **

**12.1**

For all of the prince's party, the following week and a half were surreal at best. After that strange magical attack, the demon king withdrew his army and disappeared. No one heard tell of him, and the long range scouts could not find trace of them. The mood in the capital lifted immensely. Announcement of Koriand'r's impending wedding caused celebrations in the streets. Richard was already a great hero to the people, his wedding to their beloved princess was like a dream to most.

Richard went through the motions of preparing for a wedding with surprising ease, as if he were on autopilot. Raven recognized the glassy eyed look he often possessed, and she suspected that boded rather ill for his forthcoming nuptials. She might not believe he was doing something that would make him happy, but she more than most of their party understood doing one's duty, especially for the betterment of one's home.

She was the living archetype of that just now.

In a traditional Tamaranian wedding, it seemed, all of the bride's siblings are deeply involved. To solidify this, Richard asked Ryand'r to stand as his best man, and Richard also asked Victor to stand. It was a tiny party to stand for a prince, but Raven overheard that this was only the first wedding: the two must also be married by Gotham law and this ceremony would be repeated once they reached Gotham. That, she thought, was interesting. And tedious.

So the preparations went, but Raven found herself blissfully untouched by most of it. Only once did she have to succumb to tedious planning, and that is when a seamstress came to measure her for an appropriate gown. The prince had indicated that she would attend, of course (and despite their troubles to this point), and she needed something suiting to wear.

The dress they produced was simple, but well fit and hid her bandaged knee with a series of folds in the skirt. She found two deep pockets within those folds, and within one pocket a hand stitched handkerchief. She stared at it dryly for some time before she replaced it. She doubted she would be spending any of the prince's wedding crying her little heart out. If anything, she suspected it to be mind numbingly boring.

She was surprised by more than the wedding.

**12.2**

The morning of the ceremony the prince was swept off to his dressing chamber to prepare. His men were supposed to be with him, but Ryand'r excused himself, saying he would like to check on his sister and her own preparations. Richard nodded his approval without much thought to it, and Ryand'r left the room.

In reality, this was the first chance he'd had to talk to Raven alone and he wanted to take it before the ceremony began later in the day. He did not knock on the prince's chamber door, knowing where he was, but he did knock on Raven's door.

"Are you inside?" he called quietly. He heard movement inside, and a few moments later the door swung open. Raven was not yet dressed, he noted, and he smirked. "Get dressed for the wedding. I'm going to escort you there, and I want to talk." he said swiftly. She didn't say anything, despite her narrowed eyes, but she nodded and closed the door again. It only took her a few minutes to open the door again, and he marveled at how beautiful she was. Her hair, though, that would need work.

"We can talk while I pin up my hair." she explained after his disapproving look at it. She turned to her small vanity and grabbed a handful of hair pins. Ryand'r watched as she deftly worked them through her short hair until it resembled something presentable. "Well talk, Ryand'r." she said as she sent him a sidelong glance. He started and nodded.

"Right, I've been thinking. You want to eventually rally the allied kingdoms against Trigon, right?" He didn't wait for affirmation. "They will require from you some kind of... promise or... I don't know what the right term would be."

"Insurance. They'll want proof I'm not working for the bastard, or not going to take over and do just as he did." she said softly, darkly. Good, she'd already been thinking about this. Ryand'r nodded, and she turned away. "And I doubt it will be enough that I don't want Azarath for myself. I have no intention of ruling once it is conquered."

Ryand'r blinked. "What do you intend to do with it, then?" he asked incredulously.

"Azarath was once ruled by the priests of the Order of Azar. I intend to return their nation to them." she said as if she dared him to object. Ryand'r did not object, though. He had a sudden admiration for the girl, who had the strength to fight for something and then give it back to those whom it belonged to. She was stronger than she looked, than even she realized.

"That, my princess, is admirable."

She turned to look at him, and he saw sadness in her eyes for a split second, until fear backlit them. Forewarned, he turned and looked straight into the heated eyes of Prince Richard of Gotham.

"I think there is a massive amount of explaining to be done." Richard said dangerously.

**12.3**

Richard realized her had forgotten Bruce's dagger not more than ten minutes after Ryand'r left. Rather than send Victor to fetch it, he went himself, hoping to burn some of the nervous energy off. He might not be marrying the love of his eternal life, but he was still marrying a woman in less than a few hours, and he was a little nervous. He had once thought he'd have longer to prepare for the idea.

As he walked the hall from the preparation chamber to the his own, he did not study the walls or the people, he was too lost in his own world. It was only when he laid his hand on his own doorknob that he realized the door was already partially ajar, and he pushed it open just a bit.

The conversation he overheard made his blood run cold as molten fire. He moved slowly up behind the prince, silently, as he listened, until he was looking at the girl beyond Ryand'r.

"They will require from you some kind of... promise or... I don't know what the right term would be."

"Insurance. They'll want proof I'm not working for the bastard, or not going to take over and do just as he did. And I doubt it will be enough that I don't want Azarath for myself. I have no intention of ruling once it is conquered."

"What do you intend to do with it, then?"

"Azarath was once ruled by the priests of the Order of Azar. I intend to return their nation to them."

"That, my princess, is admirable."

At that, the girl turned and looked at him, her mouth falling open, and horror written on her face. Ryand'r turned, and paled considerably. The two were caught in whatever conspiracy they had been planning. He felt his temper soar, his teeth clench, and his eyes narrow. He took a step forward.

"I think there is a massive amount of explaining to do." he hissed. At his anger, Ryand'r stepped away. No, he stepped closer to this... this girl. This girl that he found himself unable to look at. "Who are you, really?" he asked dangerously as he descended on both of them.

She touched Ryand'r's arm, and shifted by him, moving stiffly on her swollen leg. She held her head up and looked right at him. "I am the daughter of the deposed High Priestess of Azarath." she said stiffly. That threw him for a loop. He'd expected denial, but no, she admitted to being caught.

"He called you a princess!" Richard yelled. She did not flinch. He'd heard the term 'princess' and suspected dark things from this girl. How could she be a princess? Or was he promising her that she would be? It sounded as much. He had suspected before that there was lust or affection growing between the two, and he had as good as proved it. With her deception and this new relationship between the two, he wasn't sure why he would bother protecting her further.

He may have reason to kill her for treason's sake soon.

"I am, of a kind. I was her heir, her only child. In a sense, I am a princess, though we use no such words in Azarath." she said. Something about her story felt wrong, and Richard looked at Ryand'r with hard eyes.

"And you've known she was lying. How did you find out?" he demanded.

"I saw her when I went to Azarath months back. When she appeared here, I recognized her. She had no choice but to come out to me with her true identity." Ryand'r explained, quietly. The younger prince did not seem ready to jump into the middle of this conflict, but perhaps he would if Richard moved threateningly upon Rachel's person.

Richard looked between them. "Why lie to me?" he asked dangerously.

"I did not think you would trust me, if you knew who I was. I needed the escort to Gotham, so I had to lie." she looked small and desperate for him to believe her. He wasn't sure that he didn't. It fit, all of it fit into his different qualms with her original story. "I lied so I could save my people, Prince." she said softly. She stood before him, awaiting his judgment. "If that is wrong, then I do not regret my wrongdoing."

He let out a breath. Her story seemed solid, as far as he could tell. Despite his anger. It would even fit with his suspicions concerning how hurt she'd gotten so shortly ago. If Trigon were trying to stop her, silence her, then he would do what he had to do to see her dead. It was a miracle she survived this far.

"What is your real name, then?" he asked softly, neutrally.

"Rachel Arella." she replied. She paused. "You believe me, then?"

"For now, unless you give me reason not to. You must inform the king and queen as to who you are." he ordered. She inclined her head, but she did not bow he noticed. He wondered if she ever had to him. He wondered why he had never noticed.

"I will do as you ask, Prince Richard."

Richard hesitated and turned to go. "Ryand'r, come. We have to finish getting ready." Ryand'r followed as he left, and he did not look back at the girl who caused so much trouble for him.

**12.4**

When they left, Raven sank down onto the carpet, feeling a million pounds of fear float off of her. It still left a great weight. She closed her eyes, and for the first time since this adventure started she felt like crying. She had no way to know if the prince would trust her now. A little carelessness could now have destroyed all hope she had of reaching Gotham and getting the aid of their king.

She felt her knee protest the weight, and knew that she could not give into her despondency now. She must attend the wedding, and she wondered if it would be best to find the royal party before or after to explain who she was. She determined very quickly it would be best to wait until after. Let them have their beautiful daughter's wedding in peace.

She left the room, not willing to be caught alone here if Richard returned for any reason. While he'd said he believed her, she wasn't willing to stand for a cross-examination just yet. So she hobbled her way to the grand church, where the wedding would commence. Several footmen offered to help her, but despite the pain it caused she moved alone. She was shown to a seat by a young Tamaranian child, and took it gratefully, stretching one leg out ahead of the other.

She waited for some time on the ceremony. She had not been seated with Tara or Garfield, and she realized why when she saw them seated after her, farther back in the audience. Raven settled into her seat, and only perked up when she saw Victor and Ryand'r take their positions. He sought her in the crowd, looking greatly troubled. Raven felt her chest tighten. She hadn't meant to get him in trouble.

The wedding began almost on time, and Raven was surprised at that. She was hyper alert when Richard took his place beside his men and waited, with stoic eyes never once turning in her direction. Raven's breathing was labored as she watched him, and she would not discuss why even with herself. Richard looked presentable. He had not brought wedding garb with him, but some to suit had been made for him with all haste in the last weeks.

Koriand'r wore a beautiful gown, and Raven found herself believing that this woman could be a queen for Gotham, and a beautiful one. After all, as long as she kept her mind to herself, the men in Gotham would adore her. Raven was not as fond of a nation run by men for men, with women treated as second class citizens.

She shook that off as she listened to the proceedings. They were all in an old tongue of Tamaran, and Raven doubted even Richard knew what was going on. That made her smirk. She liked the idle of the arrogant prince feeling off put once in awhile. It would do him only good.

For all Raven could muster to care, it felt as if this wedding were a sham, more so already than most arranged marriages were. Raven's empathy should have been overwhelmed at such a gathering. It was not, and that surprised her. She felt no love from Richard for his bride, merely the after effects of her lie and his anger. From Kori she sensed infatuation but not even an overwhelming crush, merely the acknowledgment that she could love him and would in the coming months and years. It was sickening to realize there was so little emotion in this.

The wedding might have lasted a century as far as Raven was concerned, but by the time the bridal party made their way back down the aisle, and the guests were allowed to leave, Raven's knee was too stiff to bend. She stumbled in the press of people, wishing for a helpful footman now. She received none, and only managed to hobble out of the way of the crowd when they exited, finding a cool corner to perch in, watching the goings-on.

She looked for the king or queen, but predictably did not find them. They had long since retreated to a private room with the married parties. In a few minutes, a banquet would commence, and the royal parties would be present. Raven did not feel much like celebrating, and decided she would not. She returned to her room instead, and curled up on her bed, feeling exhausted and sick and in pain, and worst of all, unsure that all she'd done so far would mean anything in the morning.


	13. Vulnerable

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by burn to ashe**

"_A rose is free, a rose is wild  
And who would know better than I do?  
Roses are not made for love "_

_**-"Like a Rose on the Grave of Love" by Xandria**_

**Disclaimer – I do not own. Do not sue.**

**Author Notes – I really cannot wait to see Dark Knight! My god do I want to see that! On to things relevant to the story. You all cried out for some Rob/Rae moments, and you might actually get something close in this chapter. I hope that my drive for this story lasts all the long way through it. I'm enjoying this massive rush of creative energy. **

**- - -**

**Chapter Thirteen – Vulnerable**

**13.1**

The banquet was done in true Tamaranian style, and Richard found himself both exhausted and overwhelmed by it all. Despite his anger, he had searched for Rachel in the crowd and had not found her. When he'd found Garfield and Tara, they said they hadn't seen the girl since the wedding. His eyes narrowed and he looked about, as if his searching would summon her. It didn't, and he felt his suspicions spike up yet again.

He asked around, and eventually a footman told him that they had seen Miss Rachel making her way, albeit slowly, back towards her room after the wedding. Richard was gone, moving swiftly down the halls towards the rooms, without even a thought to letting his wife know where he was off to. It was too true to his nature, to simply leave without a thought. He entered his own room without knocking, and paused before he simply barged into Rachel's room. If he wanted answers, shoving her into a proverbial corner would not accomplish that.

He knocked. Politely. And he even waited for a noise from within, a sign he took as sign to enter. He did, but found Rachel curled up on her bed. He paused in the doorway. She had been asleep. Despite the week that had passed, in this light the dark bruising around her neck was still faintly visible in streaks of sickly yellow and green, and he was starkly reminded that this young woman had faced as much pain and heartache as he had in the last few weeks.

He coughed lightly.

She stirred further and looked up at him. Her hair had fallen down around her face and she looked... not quite fearful, but definitely cautious. He respected her for her caution, he realized.

"I am... sorry to disturb you." he said. At his words, she relaxed a little and stretched. She swung her legs over the side of her bed, and he watched the pain slide across her face. "Your knee isn't healing is it?" he asked her.

She let out a sigh. "It is, but slowly. I damaged so much of it that it may take the rest of my life to heal properly, if it does at all." she answered. He approached, kneeling before her, but he looked up into her eyes to ask permission before her pushed the skirt of her gown up around her knees. She nodded a little, and kept her eyes turned away as he really looked at her injury for the first time.

"This is the best treatment they had to offer?" he asked incredulously. The bruising was sickening. The swelling was grotesque. It looked almost newly injured. "You have healing abilities, can you not heal yourself?" he asked her.

She ghosted a smirk. "I can only heal by taking the wound into myself." she replied. That explained a lot, he thought, about the Tara incident.

"It is not an especially useful ability." he said dryly.

"I won't disagree." she replied. He smirked, despite his gentle fingers ghosting across bruises. She hissed softly and winced.

"I'm sorry." he said quickly. He withdrew his hands, and she pushed her skirt back into place. Looking up at her, she really looked too elegant, too beautiful to be a common woman. He reached a hand to touch the ends of her short hair. "How did your hair get so short?" he asked. He couldn't tell if he pressed his hand against the side of her face or if she leaned into him. He found he didn't mind which it was.

"I cut it... hoping to disguise myself as I fled Azarath." she explained. He had shifted to sit on the bed next to her. They were brushing shoulders. Somewhere in his mind he knew that he should be at his reception, that Kori would be wondering where he was. "It was a silly idea." she said.

Richard studied her face. "You must be valuable to the demon king." She shuddered, and he wasn't sure why. "He sent an entire army after you... called you his most precious position." He watched her turn away and felt himself lean towards her, touching her shoulder. "What did he mean?"She turned back to him and pressed her head against his shoulder. He was surprised at her sudden vulnerability. She was strong, he had seen that. "Rachel?"

"I've always been close to him. I'm a... pet, of sorts. After my mother died, he kept me close at hand." she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her voice wasn't shaking, but there was fear there. It threw Richard off, and he didn't say anything for a long time. He didn't know what to say. It had never occurred to him that she was frightened of the demon king on such a personal level. He began to wonder what exactly being a "pet" meant, and his blood began to boil.

He wasn't sure when he closed his arms around her, trying to be comforting. She wasn't crying, and her shaking slowly subsided. Somewhere, part of his mind kept screaming that he had a wife to get back to, but as he looked down at Rachel, and she looked up at him, he realized that this was a powerful woman who still needed someone to stand with her. She was alone in the world in a way he couldn't quite fathom.

"You should be getting back." She said after his silence. He realized he had not replied to her last statement, and knew she must be waiting for condemnation. It was in her soft violet eyes. Her eyes were never this soft.

"I- I guess I should." He dropped his arms and slid off of the edge of her bed, but looked back at her. "I'll get you to Gotham, Rachel. I won't let anything happen to you." he said, and perhaps it was reckless to do so, but he wasn't considering that. She looked up at him, startled, and finally nodded. A moment passed, and Richard turned away.

"Richard," she called after him when he was at her door. "Could you arrange a meeting for me? With the king and queen, in the morning?" she asked. He turned and admired her, then nodded before leaving her room and closing the door behind him.

He wasn't sure what had changed in him and in the circumstances he found himself in. Rachel was a priestess of Azar, the daughter of the former High Priestess. She was planning to rally the kingdoms to war against Trigon. Richard contemplated this as he walked, and began to dare to hope that Rachel was the sort of figurehead they could use for that purpose. He could barely imagine a world without the demon king, but knew that was a very stupid to be thinking of that just yet. There was a long road ahead before that could ever happen.

When he rejoined the wedding reception, Kori came to his side and looked at him. "Are you alright, my husband?" She sounded curious more than suspicious, despite how long he'd been gone.

"I am fine. I checked on Rachel. She is not feeling well." he explained. He expected a flash of jealousy in Kori's eyes, and for a brief second it was there, then concern flooded them.

"Does she require anything? Food or drink, or a healer?" Kori offered. Richard shook his head and smiled.

"She just wants to rest." he replied. Kori hesitated and nodded. "Come, let us rejoin the party. We are the guests of honor after all." he said. She smiled brightly at him and they did just that.

**13.2**

Raven stood before the king and queen, standing in a nearly empty court. The only ones who stood here now were the prince's party, the royal siblings, and the king and queen themselves. She kept her hands clasped demurely before her, and her head turned down. Despite her familiarity with the queen, what she had to say would likely get her into trouble and she would not presume continued familiarity.

"Rachel what brings you before us in formal audience this day?" It was the king who spoke, and Raven felt herself inhaled before she raised her eyes to meet them.

"I have come to explain something. I have been lying to your graces," she turned to glance at Richard, and those gathered near him. "and the rest of you." She turned back. "I am not who I have claimed to be."

A gasp and then silence. Tense, heavy silence. "Go on." Came the ominous reply.

She took a deep breath. "I am Rachel Arella, daughter of the former High Priestess of Azarath, who was deposed by the demon king." she said very clearly. She waited for the hammer to fall, her shoulders, tensed, and her teeth carefully pressed together.

It was the queen who rose and began to descend the stairs. "You are Arella's daughter?" Raven's heart skipped a beat. She had not expected anyone here to recognize the name of the High Priestess, nor know her. Raven looked up at the queen, desperately hoping that the queen did not know that the High Priestess had been seeded by the demon king himself.

"I am." she said very quietly.

The queen smiled, almost with tears in her eyes, and embraced Raven. Raven hesitated and slowly closed her arms around the woman. "I knew Arella, child. You are her image, I should have guessed before. I never knew she had a daughter, but we lost contact in the years before her death." The queen was talking and Raven found herself breath a sigh of relief. She looked up into the kind eyes of this woman. "We shall talk of your mother before you leave." she said then. She laughed to herself and pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes.

"Of course, your majesty." she replied. It seemed that her story remained in tact, with no further reason for it to be questioned until she reached Gotham. That would be refreshing. She smiled up at the queen, and then glanced by her, to where Ryand'r stood. The prince nodded, once, encouraging. Raven's face ghosted a smile. It felt strangely good to have an ally.

**13.3**

With the wedding complete and the demon king's army in retreat, there was no further reason for the party from Gotham to remain in Tamaran. They remained for the whole of the feasting celebrations, but on the fourth day, the whole of them were preparing mounts for a long ride back to Gotham. The princess's things had been prepared. The prince and his party were outfitted. Even a docile mount was given to Rachel, a gift from the king and queen's own stables.

Richard watched the proceedings with half a mind, the other half on his plans to return to Gotham. It was delving into sour weather, and he was reminded of his water logged days on the trail to Tamaran. He glanced around his party, noting Garfield and Tara, who would be joining him in Gotham. They were both hearty types, and he suspected that even Tara would find nothing hard about the week's journey. Victor had experienced it with him when they had arrived, and he knew the mage would find no ill in all this. Escorts aside, that left only Kori and Rachel to consider.

Kori was a princess bred and born. Despite their brief conversations, in which he had deduced that Kori enjoyed riding the hunt and other outdoor activities, he wondered if the princess would be capable of the cross-country travel if the weather turned ill. She was at least an accomplished horsewoman and he had faith in her ability to ride to Gotham without much complaint as long as the party was paced moderately, rather than fast.

Rachel was hard to judge. She was not a horsewoman, as she both claimed and had proven. She seemed so fragile, and he remembered her near death illness when first they had met. Was she so fragile that a bit of cold rain would send her into relapse? And her knee. She had healed considerably in the last few days, but she still moved stiffly, and he suspected she could not walk long distances. She had expressed nothing of what she could do. His suspicions were that she had been a plaything to the demon king, which left him with little faith in her ability to defend herself or survive in the wild.

So he would have to keep an eye on the two of them. With that in mind, he turned his horse and looked up the road.

**13.4**

Raven was barely astride the damned horse (attired in her nice new riding habit) when the thing began to rebel. She hissed to herself, grasping at the pommel, as the reins fell down before her. She cursed to herself and wished she felt more comfortable using her powers in front of an audience as she slowly reached for them.

Her savior came in the form of Ryand'r, who grasped the reins and calmed the horse. He looked up at her, smiling, and she straightened, trying to regain some measure of her dignity.

"I wanted to say goodbye to you, princess." he said softly. She smirked. "I hope not for the last time." he added. She felt her stomach tighten. What was that supposed to mean?

"I don't believe it will be. Perhaps at a meeting of the free kingdoms." she suggested.

"Perhaps. I hope. I wish you all of the luck I can muster." he said. "You make yourself a symbol of a world without fear." She knew her face colored at his words, and she may not believe them but she felt a sort of confidence, as if she caught them from his words. "I think you will succeed."

"Thank you, Prince Ryand'r." she said earnestly, though she felt awkward for her words. He returned the reins to her and saw them firmly in her hand before he stepped back.

"Good bye, Lady Rachel Arella." he returned. Then he turned and strode away, and Raven keenly felt his loss. He had been a boon companion, and a rock to lean on in her time in Tamaran. She turned to face the rest of her path far more alone.

Ahead of her, she spotted Prince Richard. He caught her eye and motioned his head, but she glanced away and pretended not to notice.


	14. Deceiver

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by burn to ashe**

"_How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat.  
Some dance to remember, some dance to forget"_

_**-"Hotel California" by The Eagles**_

**Disclaimer – I do not own. Do not sue.**

**Author Notes – Lots happens in this chapter, folks, which is why it's taken a few days to write. Also I kept having trouble with consistent characterization, and had to rewrite a section because of it. **

**- - -**

**Chapter Fourteen – Deceiver**

**14.1**

It was the third day on the path to Gotham when Koriand'r finally drew enough courage around her to pull her mare up beside Rachel's, and glanced at her with a smile. What she may feel about this woman, she was a priestess and fighting for the good of all. No matter her relationship with Richard—which Kori was even more confused about since the revelation that Rachel was no simple peasant girl—Kori knew she could at least appreciate what Rachel strove to do.

She wanted to form a rapport or friendship with Rachel. Koriand'r was not stupid, she had seen how close the priestess was to Richard, and as Richard was her new husband she felt a duty to make peace with his friends and allies.

"How are you faring, Lady Rachel?" Kori asked as they rode. Rachel seemed to consider her answer, and Kori wondered why. Why was it so hard for the priestess to talk to her?

"I'm fine, thank you for asking, your highness." she said quite diplomatically. Kori did not want a diplomatic answer, though, she wanted friendship and honesty. She could see the paleness, the tightness of Rachel's hands on the reins, and the tightness of her lips. Kori had been taught from childhood to keep a close eye on the body language of someone. Rachel was in pain, and she was nervous about something.

Kori was initially suspicious, then she chastised herself. If Rachel did not have reason to be nervous, then perhaps no one did. Soon she would be petitioning before King Bruce of Gotham, and then no doubt she would be standing before a concave of collected royal parties negotiating war. Kori felt almost... jealous. Not that Rachel would be facing great hardship, but for the girl's freedom. Kori would grow to love Richard, she was sure, and she was not sure that she had not already begun to form feelings for him. But Rachel was traveling freely from one side of the continent to the other, with no parents or husbands to tell her what she could do.

"I suppose you are nervous. To be petitioning before my husband's father. I hear he is a hard man to impress." Kori said, in attempts to continue the conversation.

"Either he will see merit in my petition or he won't. I cannot change his response." Rachel said neutrally. Kori glanced her way and wasn't sure she believed Rachel's statement of complacency.

"I do not want us to be adversaries." she said abruptly.

Rachel looked at her. "Why would we be adversaries, princess?" she asked, still so neutrally. There was a _something_ in the tilt of Rachel's head that unnerved Kori. Her horse shied, and she moved away.

"Uh... good afternoon, Lady Rachel." she said and turned her horse away. The strange feeling clung to her until she was safely tucked between Richard and Victor, and even then she stole a glance over her shoulder at Rachel. What had that feeling been?

**14.2**

Raven moved stiffly as they prepared to camp. It was still well lit but Garfield had informed them that this was the last good campground until the river, and no one wanted to cross the river as it was getting dark. So it was decided they would tackle that in the morning, and tonight they would camp beneath the stars.

She tried to slip away discretely. She was not interested in announcing her intention to bathe to the collective, so when she was sure no one was looking she took a clean gown and began the very stiff walk down the path towards the river. She had seen the escorts take this path earlier, to bring back water, but there was no reason to think they would need do that again.

Walking around the palace back in Tamaran had not been this hard. But an uneven path, strewn with rock and tree roots and all manner of other obstacles was going to make this difficult. She winced and hissed as yet again she had to bend her knee further than she had been lately to step over a fallen log.

"Rachel?" She froze and glanced back the path to where Richard stood. She said nothing and waited for him to go on. He seemed like the type to yell at her for sneaking off like this, and she intended to stand her ground. Politely. She could be polite while being firm.

"Might I be of service to you?" she asked too sweetly. He gave her a sour look and walked straight up to her.

"You shouldn't be wandering off by yourself. It'll be dark soon." he stepped over the log and turned to face her. "And your knee is far from healed. You should be taking it easy." She tried not to glower at him and probably failed.

"I just wanted a quick wash in the river. I will be back soon, and my knee is fine." she said grumpily. She expected him to get testy with her, but instead there was a sort of sympathetic kindness in his expression. He turned to head down towards the river, as if he was coming with her. She rooted herself to the spot. "I am not bathing in front of you, Prince." she snapped.

He looked back at her. "I wouldn't expect it. There is a steep, rocky incline further down the path. You'll never make it down them alone with your knee. I thought I'd help you." he said blandly. She furrowed her brow and hesitantly nodded. This new kindness in Richard was disconcerting. She was far more used to standing her ground and being defensive rather than dealing with his cooperation.

They walked in silence for a time. Then Raven spoke. She wasn't sure why she asked, but it came to her and so she did. "How do you like being married?" she asked, almost a tease. But he didn't smile, didn't glance over his should towards the camp. He simply looked... thoughtful. Almost sad.

"Much like being unmarried, I suppose. Perhaps things will change once we are settled in our home, in Gotham." he replied honestly. She was amazed at his answer. "To this point, Kori and I have barely had five or ten minutes to speak to one another alone, let alone learn anything about one another." he said. He sounded wistful and irritated, and Raven wondered fleetingly what sort of husband he would make.

"I suspect things will change, Richard." she replied softly. She touched his arm, and he looked down at her.

"I hope you are right, Rachel." The sound of her fake name broke something in her and she looked away abruptly. The sting of tears threatened, but was quickly claimed. Here was dreaming of a life that was most assuredly not her own: she would never have the luxury to consider marriage and love. It was a foolish girl's dream. She did not cry as a general rule and most certainly would not cry now. "Rachel?" he asked. She tried to laugh it off.

In silence, Richard climbed down the incline, and turned to raise his arms up to let her slide into them. She hesitated and finally did, finding his grip as strong as she might have imagined. Her face was bare inches from his, and she felt something catch in her throat. Suddenly her heart was beating very quickly.

"Rachel?"

"Yes?" she replied. Her answer was as breathy as his question had been. Why wasn't he putting her down? Why wasn't she protesting?

"I-" he paused, and leaned the bare space between them and kissed her. It was soft and chaste for merely a moment before it felt hungry. She looped her arms around his neck, and he set her gently down only to lean into her. She felt cold, moist stone through the material on her back.

Then she heard the footsteps, as loud as the blood pounding in her ears. She gasped, pulling away, but it was too late. As Richard raised his head, he spotted her.

Koriand'r had seen it all. She turned and ran back towards camp, and Richard took off after her. Raven slid to the ground, head lolling back against the stone, wondering how she had let this happen.

**14.3**

Raven intended to stay far away from the Tamaranian princess for the rest of the night, and perhaps the rest of the journey. When she finally limped back into camp, almost everyone had already settled in for the night. Garfield greeted her with a nod of his head when she appeared finally and he looked relieved to see her. She must have remained out in the woods for an hour or so after Richard left, and the sun was nearly down.

"There's food if you're hungry." Garfield offered. Raven shook her head, and moved off. She wanted time to think about what had happened, and to formulate a course of action. She did not want to face an angry bride for being the girl who'd kissed the groom.

For that matter, she realized, she did not want to face Richard either. What he had meant by kissing her, she did not know. For that matter, she had no idea why she hadn't fought him, hadn't tried to stop him in any way. She didn't have feelings for the Prince of Gotham. She was not concerned for propriety, she was concerned for her ultimate mission. This most recent incident could only harm her chances, she thought.

So lost in thought, she wasn't paying attention to where she was going, and found she had wandered rather far from the camp. And that she was not alone. She was startled when she saw a person, and her stomach sank when she realized it was the Tamaranian princess.

"I did not think to speak again with you, Rachel of Azarath." the princess nearly spat upon spotting the other woman. "But you come to seek me out. Why? Do you think an apology will cause what has happened to become undone." the princess said with no charity whatsoever. Raven would have flinched, save for how much she wished to be removed from this situation. She had not intended to apologize at all, merely to avoid them both for another day or so.

"I did not mean to do such a thing to you, princess, and what was done meant nothing. Rest assured that your prince is still your own." Raven tried.

"Still my own? He has not so much as spoken a dozen words to me on this journey, and I find you with your arms wrapped around his neck. Priestess or not, you are a betrayer of trust and a slut." Kori snapped. Raven could hear the tears building in the princess's voice, but more notably the righteous fury that was driving her. Raven had been called worse before in her life, but never by someone she'd considered nearly a friend.

"Think what you must-"

"I know only truth." she snapped. "I did not think a woman in service to a god could be so base." Raven felt her temper pricked. She clamped down on it, as she clenched her teeth. She wanted to simply look away from the princess but felt her eyes raising to look her in the eye. Kori met her gaze for gaze, and finally spoke again. "You are a whore, and I want you to stay away from my boy." Kori snapped.

The whip-crack of Koriand'r's voice was what snapped the hold on her temper. Why it was so fragile, she couldn't have guessed, but Raven felt control flee her. She knew her eyes shifted to red, and her hands glowed black.

It took everything she was not to attack the princess like a feral dog. She pulled back until her eyes returned to violet, and she collapsed to the ground. She looked up at the princess, who's shocked face and pale complexion were news enough.

"You're a demon." Kori breathed, terrified.

"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you." Raven replied without thinking. Kori ran. Raven curled into herself, into a small ball, and no one came for her this time.

**14.4**

On the fourth day, it rained. And rained. Torrential downpours plagued them, forcing the party to find simple shelter and bed down for the day rather than continuing on. Each shivered beneath a thin blanket and looked among the others with little conversation. No one felt like talking, and everyone hoped they wouldn't contract a cold from this.

The next morning, early, they rose to continue on, trying to make up for lost time. They rode until they reached a river. The river was up from all the rain, of course, but Richard only got wet to his chest trying to cross his horse. He tied his horse to the other bank, and looked back.

"It is crossable! Ladies, we'll take you across first, mounted please." he informed them as he carefully recrossed. There was a strong undertow, but as long as he warned the men leading the horses across, they should be fine. As he stepped back out on the other side, he looked about. He spotted Tara first, and nodded at her. "You first, Tara. Garfield, take her reins and slowly lead the horse across. Watch the undertow, and take it slow, alright?"

Garfield might be a scrappy kid, but he was tall enough to lead Tara's horse, and Richard knew he was stronger than he looked. The boy nodded at Richard as he took Tara's reins. The forest native looked confident, and it occurred to Richard that Garfield had probably been fording high rivers longer than Richard himself had. Tara looked sick as she clung to the pommel. She was an excellent rider, but she was more than nervous with how she was getting across this river. She was too short to have crossed any other way, though.

Once those two were safely on the other side, Richard turned to the remaining two women. Victor was a broad, strong man. He could probably control Rachel's horse if it started to spook. "Victor, I want you to lead Rachel across." The priestess looked sicker than Tara and avoided his eyes, which was no surprise to Richard. After yesterday, he was prepared for her skittishness. That Koriand'r had not mentioned what she had seen was a blessing. "I'll take Kori after you two are safely over." he turned to their few escorts. "And you take the men's horses over for us."

Rachel was clinging hard to the pommel as Victor led her into the river, and he kept his eyes trained on her. That kiss... it had meant nothing, surely. He assumed it was just his way of dealing with a new wife that he barely knew, albeit a bad way. Rachel was shaking. That woman had horrible luck, if anything were to go wrong, now would be the time. Richard hadn't realized he was holding his breath until they were safely on the other side, and Victor waving an arm at them.

Richard turned to his new bride and was startled to realize she had dismounted.

"My horse is afraid of high water. She can be forced to cross, but if I try to ride her she will spook and throw me." Kori explained upon seeing his look. He sighed, looked to her horse, and then to the series of escorts already crossing with the remaining horses. Kori was tall, perhaps if she hung on to him tightly she would be fine.

It was a risk. He had to protect her, he owed her that. She was his wife, he had to get her safely to Gotham. He found himself wondering why he'd dragged her along with him rather than letting her come in a week or two at a more leisurely pace. Forget that he hadn't asked her, that she had asked him. He still should not have let this happen. She looked at him, one hand wrapped firmly in the reins and the other extended towards him. It appeared that she still trusted him.

"No, let me lead the horse." He took the reins. "Hold on." he grasped her hand tightly and they stepped in. It seemed to be working just fine, and Kori was having no trouble at all despite how deep the water was on her. She flashed him a smile a moment before it happened, and for a brief second he knew that things could be alright between them again. She slipped on the moss covered rocks, her head slipping beneath the surface. The force of her disappearing along the rapid undertow force her hand almost out of his. Before he could swing his other hand down to grasp her, she was gone.

"KORIAND'R!" he bellowed. All eyes turned to him as he dove under the water after her.

**14.5**

It was too perfect an opportunity. Raven hated herself for thinking it. The princess had told no one, had said nothing to anyone. But Raven couldn't trust that to continue. As Koriand'r slipped beneath the surface and Richard went after her, Raven closed her eyes and started muttering.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos," she whispered, and then her soul was flying along with them. She watched Richard swim hard after Kori, and watched her body bounce along the rocks, wincing with each hit. Richard caught up to her, and it was a brilliant series of actions that brought them both to safety, several dozen yards down the river from the ford.

Before they crested the water, and came out, Raven delved into Koriand'r's psyche. She harmed nothing, simply wove a sleep spell. With the princess asleep, she could tell no one Raven's secret. It would last only until they reached Gotham and Raven had had time to reveal herself in her own time.

She felt dirty, she felt evil, she felt cold. Her essence returned to her and she gasped. "They're fine." she said, barely above a whisper. Victor looked up at her. He'd apparently noticed her state and stayed to hold her horse, so it did not bolt. "The prince is pulling her out now." She said stronger.

"The escorts have run to meet them." Victor replied.

The call for a healer went down the line, and Victor turned to her. She nodded and allowed herself to be helped off of the back of that behemoth beast and walked stiffly to where the red haired princess was laid out, her crown her own soaked hair. Richard was next to her, touching her face, clinging to her hand. Raven wondered if it was love or concern for duty that had such a stricken look plastered on his face.

Painfully, Raven knelt beside the sleeping princess, and appeared to do a check. "Bruising, to be expected." she said. "No broken bones, which is a miracle." She added.

"She will not wake, Rachel." Richard said softly.

Raven touched Kori's head gingerly, checking for obvious bumps. Finding none, she looked at the prince. "I think it is shock. She breathes the normal pace. Her heart is not elevated. She had taken no hits to the head. She should wake in a few hours, or at most a day or so. But we should hurry to Gotham. She less likely to catch a cold from this if she has a proper bed and proper meals when she wakes."

Raven rose with Victor's help, and watched Richard clinging to his ragdoll princess for a moment. Then he nodded, rose, and began making orders for a stretcher to be made that would be slung between two horses. Raven stepped back to allowed the chaos to begin, but stole one last glance at the waterlogged princee.

'_I'm sorry, Koriand'r. You may never forgive me, but I hope you will understand one day why I do this. I would have liked to be your friend._' she thought before she turned to walk back to her horse, and continue the journey to Gotham.


	15. Burning

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by burn to ashe**

"_In your mind she's your companion_

_Vile instincts often candid_

_Your regret is all that's left_

_Beautiful is empty, beautiful is free_

_Beautiful loves no one, Beautiful stripped me"_

_**-"Beautiful" by Creed**_

**Disclaimer – I do not own. Do not sue.**

**Author Notes – It is only appropriate that the song blurb for this chapter be this song. You see when I first thought of this story, this chapter was one of the very first things that made me decide to write it. I wanted this, and so many images from it, to be part of a story I hoped would interest me enough to be finished. Now we're fifteen chapters into it, and I don't think I'll be stopping any time soon. This song was one of the first songs I added to the soundtrack for this piece, three years ago when I started writing it. It is why the first chapter is called "Beautiful". Consider that this chapter is probably my favorite thus far. **

**I want to take a minute and wholeheartedly thank everyone who has been reviewing dutifully every chapter. I'm not the type to go into names of individual reviewers, but you all know who you are and know that it's the reviews that have been making me work on this piece at the rate I have. So keep it up, I love you. **

**If you read and don't review, well WHY NOT! It only takes a second to click the review button and let me know what you think, and if you like it and want updates know that it'll happen faster if you do review. I want to hit 100 reviews within the next few chapters! **

**- - -**

**Chapter Fifteen – Burning**

**15.1**

They arrived at the royal palace of Gotham on the tenth day. Ragged tired and unable to calm her nerves, Raven watched with a sick stomach as they entered the main courtyard of the palace. Grooms ran to take the reigns of dismounting men and women. Servants came with mulled wine for the exhausted. Raven watched with sickness in her eyes as healers were called and came running to tend the royal princess, their future queen. Richard moved to follow her, but a younger boy stopped him by grabbing his hand and tugging, pointing towards the head of the courtyard.

The head of the courtyard, where Bruce, King of Gotham, waited. Raven inhaled sharply, and she felt her hands shake. All this time, all this dedication, and this man with the power to end it all on a whim. She watched him, watched as he inclined his head at Richard. Feeling less than honorable, Raven exerted a bit of her soul to listen.

"What happened?" Bruce asked with deceptive calm, but an icy darkness to his voice. Richard flinched at that. At least, Raven would have sworn he did.

"She slipped into a high river and hit her head. She hasn't awakened since then." Richard replied softly. He denied nothing, and his tone was easy to read as guilt ridden. "I tried to save her but-"

"But you failed." Bruce said, with no charity.

"But I failed." Richard echoed softly.

Silence. "Bring your party. I see you've collected a few more than you left with. Bring them to the main hall." Bruce turned on his heel and left, and Richard crumbled. At least emotionally. Raven could sense his despair and her own guilt fed her perceptions. She felt terrible. His form, however, never wavered, nor his expression. He turned away from her, and she wondered at his feigned strength.

Slowly, she dismounted alone, using only a breath of her power to make the landing on her knee bearable. A groom shyly took her horse and she let him. She wasn't concerned with grooms. Despite what happened last between herself and the prince, she approached him. She wanted to be a healer, was a healer in so many ways. She wanted to take his all-consuming guilt away from him, to heal this sick and soul-wounded man.

She touched his arm, and he spun to face her, but his face softened when he saw her. They hadn't spoke since that moment, all that time ago. Too much had happened since then. She opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it.

"Rachel. Come with me. I would have you meet my father." he said, pretending like nothing was wrong. She would have winced, but kept her face even. If he needed a mask to deal with his pain, she could not take it from him in good conscience.

"Of course." By the time she replied, Victor and Garfield and Tara had grouped near them. Despite their long travel, they would meet the king now. Raven knew her life was about to change, she would lose the friends she had made. She expected it, she knew their hate was inevitable. She only hoped Bruce could be the sort of man to appreciate what she wanted and what she had done to get here.

As they walked, Raven stole glances at each of her companions. She could see the coming outraged hurt on each face in her mind. She was skittish, and jumped even when Garfield brushed against her. "Rachel, are you alright?" She didn't answer, but nodded.

They entered the king's hall and her friends were nearly overawed. Richard of course was not, and Victor had seen it but once before, but the other two were completely out of their element. Raven pressed her lips together. It was a fine hall, of course, but her father's court in Azarath was dripping in elegance and this hall lacked a certain level of it.

"Father," Richard called out, standing at the foot of the stairs, looking up at Bruce. "I return from Tamaran, married. I wish-" his voice did not falter even if his emotional state swelled. "I could present my bride to you, but she has taken ill on our journey and now rests." he said. This would be the official version of the story for the court's sake. Good, Raven thought, it would be easier to explain when she woke up suddenly. "I return in the presence of Magi Victor Stone, as I left." Victor bowed deeply before the king, and did not rise.

"I also present three guests to you, and two of them I ask to allow to join the court. Garfield and Tara- I would ask you allow Garfield to become my squire and to place Tara as one of my wife's lady maids." Raven was flabbergasted. Both paths were minor nobility. Raven sent glances at the two in question. Tara was very pale and very still: she knew what it meant. Garfield wasn't sure, but he kept glancing between Tara and Richard. Finally both realized they had not bowed, and did so now. Raven and Richard alone in the party remained standing.

"I welcome back Magi Stone and I consent to your request in the cases of your guests." Bruce said as if all this normal formality did not mean the life and livelihood of two younglings that Raven was rather fond of, despite herself.

"And last, I present an honored guest-" Richard began, but Raven kept her eyes on Bruce and pushed past him, speaking up for herself.

"I am Raven, Princess of Azarath, and daughter to Trigon the Terrible, King of Azarath." she proclaimed. The cry went out, amongst the gathered nobles. Disbelief. Hatred. Fear. A woman screamed, growing hysterical. Raven poured all of her ability to heal into her knee as she fell to her knees before the King of Gotham, eyes lowered. "And I put myself on your mercy, your Majesty, and come to petition for your aid in defeating my father." she said as she closed her eyes.

It was in Bruce's hands now. She tried not to think about what Richard thought, or if that beacon of anger and hurt behind her was him. An entire assembly of people bowed at once as Bruce rose and descended the stairs, one at a time. He stood before her.

"Father, I-" Richard began.

"Quiet." Richard was silenced. Raven dared to raise her eyes just a hair, then another, until she was looking at him. She met his gaze pound for pound, and finally he motioned her to her feet. "Come. We have much to discuss."

She rose, with great pain, and follow Bruce from the room. Guards and servants as expected surrounded them, and Raven felt suspiciously like someone being led to the gallows for execution. Richard, she'd noted, had not come with them. Mourning, for some life that was never hers to begin with, she released her spell on Koriand'r and allowed the princess to awaken. Richard would be busy for some time now, with his bride. She need not concern her mind for him.

And yet she thought of him still as she was ushered into the king's private audience chamber, and the door clanged closed behind her.

**15.2**

Richard felt her words like a brazier had been lit in his stomach, sending fire coursing through the rest of him with each beat of his heart. He watched her back, sensed every shift of her muscles, and wondered why he hadn't fallen on her and throttled her yet.

What was she? Demon daughter of a demon king. Everything he had been trained to loathe, and a liar for it all. Liar. She had played him like a master musician plays any instrument they touch. He was just another of her tools, and now he looked the fool. His jaw was hanging open, his one protest killed on his lips by his father.

Then she was gone. It happened in the space of a breath and another and he was left standing before the outraged court, staring after her. He heard distantly the outrage of his companions, but it was as if he were standing in the middle of a wind tunnel. He was very very alone in that room of people.

Then finally something reached in in the numb place he'd found.

"My lord, my lord, please come! The princess is awake!" He turned very slowly to look at the messenger squire. The message sank in abruptly and he felt color fall from his face. Koriand'r was awake? He felt no joy, but there was a great weight that had fallen from him.

He did not look at his friends, but barked to them: "Garfield, attend me!" and followed the squire as he led the way through the winding corridors to where his lady was finally awake.

**15.3**

Raven sat in a hard backed chair at a council table. She had been surprised when Bruce had brought he here, rather than some place perhaps more secure. She had settled into that seat awhile ago, though, and he was still addressing his councilors rather than her. When the king's eyes finally settled upon her, she kept her cloak of regality about her as defense.

"It would be useless to ask you to prove who you are." he said. She shrugged lightly.

"How many would walk into the throne room of your majesty and claim to be the only legitimate offspring of your greatest enemy? I thought my claim original if nothing else." She added the last almost sarcastically, but he did not seem to acknowledge that.

"Quite. Of your own claim, you come to find help in killing your father. That is something of interest to me. I would know why even his daughter wants him dead." Several of the king's councilors shifted around him to better watch the petite thing, a demoness that too many stories had been told about: all lies, which made this more difficult for her.

"If he is a terror to everyone else, do you expect he is a kind and dutiful father to me? I am half human, sir; he did not realize that the humanity in my veins would be so much a taint as to make me unloyal to him. I have retained token loyalty to him thus far out of fear." she admitted bitterly.

Bruce said nothing as he studied her. "Then what can you offer us that we did not already have?"

Raven's lips thinned as she felt her irritation pique. "Intimate knowledge of my father's demon abilities. Abilities of my own of a very similar sort. Knowledge of my father's military practices and plans. The ability to gain more information on him at a moment's notice." She listed each off with precision, hopeful that Bruce would understand without explanation at this point what she meant. She suddenly felt very exhausted. Her mind supplied for her the overwhelming betrayal and pains he'd felt from Richard when she'd revealed herself, and she felt the weight sit heavily on her.

"She may be a boon, your majesty-" one of the man's councilors began, but Bruce raised a hand to silence him.

"See that someone shows the princess to a suitable suite, so that she may bathe and rest before the night's meal." the king said very specifically. Raven recognized a dismissal and felt her feathers ruffle. She had hoped for so much more, but that she wasn't dead or imprisoned yet was a very good thing. Perhaps she had not come this far for not.

She rose with grace and poise, despite her tired, stiff condition. She bowed with just as much grace and turned to follow her escort out of the room. She would play any role she must to get the king's help. At this stage, she had no other options. Without his aid she would be dead within a month at her father's hand.

Once, she realized, she could have counted on Richard's support. Now... she suspected he wanted her dead and gone. Grief plagued her, but she had brought it on herself of course.

Somehow, that was neither comforting or satiating.


	16. Loveless

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by burn to ashe**

"_Goodbye, my almost lover  
Goodbye, my hopeless dream  
I'm trying not to think about you  
Can't you just let me be?  
So long, my luckless romance  
My back is turned on you  
I should've known you'd bring me heartache  
Almost lovers always do__"_

_**-Almost Lover" by A Fine Frenzy**_

**Disclaimer – I do not own. Do not sue.**

**Author Notes – **

**- - -**

**Chapter Sixteen – Loveless**

**16.1**

Raven descended the grand staircase, which also happened to be the most convenient route to the king's personal study on the first floor. She had been summoned, and she suspected word on Gotham's compliance or not with her petition. Perhaps not a solid answer, but some indication would be nice.

She descended lightly, with more speed than she had in some time. Two weeks in Gotham, with excellent healers and a great deal of rest, had done wonders for her knee. It would never be completely healed, she suspected, but being able to walk the stairs without pain was quite an accomplishment she felt.

As she descended the right staircase, she felt eyes upon her and looked up. Richard, of course, stared at her with cold, hard eyes. She had been able to avoid any personal conversation with him since her arrival, and betrayal. They had met across tables at a few council meetings and dinners, but never once had he spoken directly to her or vice versa. She hated that look on his face. Part of her wished she could apologize, but she knew she couldn't. She wasn't sorry for anything she had done.

"Your Highness," she said for lack of anything else to say. She bowed shallowly. His expression melted, replaced with fire. He came to meet her on the first landing, and if she were a weaker person she would have taken a few apprehensive steps back. As it was, she studied him almost dully. "I have heard that Princess Koriand'r has made a full recovery. I am glad to hear it."

"You do not say her name, defiler." Richard hissed. Raven had expected this from him, but it still hurt. She hated herself for letting it. "Just because my father has accepted your presence does not mean I would not see you dead for your lies!" he snarled at her. "You toyed with us all. You lied with every breath. _Raven._" Raven looked away. She did not want to have this conversation, and surely not in public. "You elicited sympathy from everyone, when in reality you're a demon whore."

She flushed with anger and looked up at him. "I am _not_ a whore!" she snapped. "Yes, I lied to you, and for that I am unhappy that I hurt anyone. I do not apologize. I will never regret what it took to get here."

He grabbed her arm, wrenching her forward. She yelped, more from surprise than pain, and glared up at him. "You used me and my people. You're probably working for your father-"

She slapped him. Rather hard, too. She pulled away from him. "I am not my father's whore. If I wanted to destroy your people, I would have done it by now. I am here for the reasons I state."

"But which reasons." He snapped. "The peasant girl's? Rachel Arella's? Or Raven's? Do you even know? I say none. You are a snake; the best way to deal with snakes is to remove them of their heads."

"Richard."

It was Bruce. He turned to find his foster-father standing at the foot of the steps, with a gathered audience of servants and the like. With great reluctance, he released Raven's arm and she stepped back. She did not give him the benefit of rubbing her arm, though it hurt. She glared at him and turned finally to the king.

"She is under the protection of my word, for now. Do not sully the honor of our house with your petty concerns. Both of you follow me."

Raven glanced at Richard before she descended the last flight of stairs and followed the king to his study. Richard followed, finally, after glaring at her back for a moment. When they had entered the study, neither Raven nor Richard was offered seats. Bruce settled behind his desk and looked at them both.

"I cannot speak for the other nations, and your plan cannot succeed without them." He said without preamble. Raven nodded slowly. He spoke truth. "I have decided to invite the leaders of the allied nations here. It is time we did something with that alliance rather than letting it get musty and useless."

Raven felt her heart soar. She would have smiled, if she could have trusted herself enough. She curtsied deeply. "I thank you, your majesty."

"You will of course need petition your case before the collected, princess. They may not be as favorable as I." He said stiffly. She nodded. She had expected that much.

"Of course." She closed her eyes, letting her elation consume her for a moment. Unconsciously, she glanced at Richard and her heart constrained. She had never defined what it was between them before their lives had fallen apart. She regretted that now. "Prince Richard, I apologize for my behavior moments ago. It was uncalled for and out of line. If you'll both excuse me, however, I would begin drafting my petition now."

Bruce was amused, she could tell though he didn't show it, and allowed it. Richard was too flabbergasted to speak. She left before he regained his tongue.

**16.2**

Richard watched her go, jaw fallen open. She had apologized? Here he was stewing on everything concerning that little harpy and she had _apologized_. He wanted to throttle her for her attempt at taking the high road. She hadn't meant that apology, he could tell. He knew her too well…

That was it, wasn't it? She hadn't changed. Names and histories had, but the same strong girl he'd dealt with all this time remained. That was what hurt the most. By whatever name she chose to use, she was still the same woman. That was what hurt the most. Rachel wasn't dead, was not gone. She lived on still, under the guise of a black bird and omen of death. If she had died, he could mourn, but she had changed shape before him and he was angry and hurt and with no clear way to deal with it.

"You need to keep yourself together. Another stunt like that and no one would blame her if she disintegrated you." Bruce said with little humor and all paternal disapproval to his tone. Richard turned to look at his foster-father and nodded.

"I don't trust her." This may or may not have been a lie. With his revelation, could he say he did not trust her? He was hurt, angry, pissed off, unable to think straight, but he remembered her smile, he remembered the feel of her in his arms, he remembered too much.

"Understandable. You don't have to. I didn't ask you here to talk about her. How fares your wife?"

Richard felt that comment like another slap in the face, to match the one Raven had given him. "She fares well. She heals from her trauma with great speed."

"Will she be well enough for your marriage before this council of nations is called?" Bruce asked. Richard knew why. When their marriage in Gotham was complete, the alliance with Tamaran would be solidified; this was a useful tool to have in one's pocket with the meeting upcoming.

"I will ask her, but I believe so. She has been out of bed for days."

Bruce nodded. "Then it shall be. You are dismissed."

Richard inclined his head and turned to leave. He had a great many things to think about; he was still avoiding Raven if he could help it, and finding new ways to do that without staying confined to his room was becoming difficult.

**16.3**

Arguing with Richard had not been on her list of things she wished to do today, but more pressing than that was the truth that she did not wish to be standing where she was just now: outside of the rooms Koriand'r was using until her final marriage to Richard. What had brought her here was nothing short of a summons from the princess herself. Raven could have rightfully ignored it, but she suspected that running away was not the image she would have of herself just now.

She waited in the hall for acknowledgement. It had been a snippy, condemning Tara who had received her and disappeared within to tell Koriand'r that she had come. For a moment, Raven had wondered if the girl would actually tell the future queen. Then she realized that Tara was fiercely loyal: even if Raven had lost that loyalty, Koriand'r had not and would be told.

Finally it was another lady who returned to show her in. "Please follow me, Lady Raven." She said simply. Raven did just that. She did not look around overlong at the chambers she entered and passed through into a sitting room. She was not overly concerned with color schemes or fineries. She felt the nervousness to her core. If Koriand'r chose to turn against her she suspected it meant the others would as well.

She was seated, and the woman who had shown her in retreated to stand near the wall. Raven was nearly ready to begin pacing the damned room when the door opened and in walked Koriand'r. Raven rose and turned to look at her.

"Lady Raven." Koriand'r spoke softly. She looked pale, despite the health that had returned so quickly to her. She had taken legitimate injuries when she'd gone into the water; Raven knew she had caused nothing but a sleep. A sleep, she might point out, that was a healing trance. She must have been more hurt than anyone had realized to still be in such a state. Koriand'r indicated to the remaining woman to leave, and they were left alone.

"Princess," Raven returned. She did not bother correcting Koriand'r's titling of her. It was convenient, she realized, for no one to give her the title 'princess'. Except Ryand'r. She found herself wishing for his company, the only one who knew the truth and did not hate her. Ironic he was the brother of the woman ready to condemn her just now, if the look in those green eyes was any indication at all. "You asked me to attend upon you, and I came." She pointed out unnecessarily.

"And so you did." Kori spoke with no charity at all. "Do you remember our last words?" She asked suddenly. Raven did, and indicated so. "It seems that you revealed yourself to everyone, though." She paused. "I have to ask you this, and I demand from you an honest answer. Swear you will be honest."

Raven hesitated. "I swear."

"Why did you lie?" Koriand'r asked perhaps too softly.

It was a valid question, and not what Raven had expected from the princess. She studied the red haired woman before her and thought her answer out very slowly. She had no reason to lie further and every reason to speak truth between them. Some part of Raven knew that under other circumstances, she and the princess could have formed a very close bond. They were vastly different people, but held similar core beliefs.

Raven chose not to lie. She chose to step away from the world her father had raised her to, and to try and understand and trust in the world she had entered.

"I did not believe that anyone would listen to me if I spoke truth from the beginning." She said very quietly. "I expected that I would be executed without second thought. Few even now trust I would truly turn against Trigon the Terrible." It was not much of an explanation and Koriand'r seemed to think hard on it before replying herself.

"You are correct. My people would have killed you without thought to something more you might have to say." She said almost reluctantly. "Why did you turn against him?" she asked further.

Raven felt her core ice. She looked about her, looking for any excuse, any distraction she could find. Lacking that, she finally turned to look at the princess again.

"For many reasons. He has tortured and killed, and forced into servitude through fear, all of Azaroth. He has raped and murdered countless women. Including my mother." She said with a tight throat. Emotions were the enemy, always had been. She had not spoken of this to anyone before, though, and the tangible claw of grief tightened about her throat. "He will continue on until he is stopped." She said with some clarity.

Koriand'r rose from her seat and came forward, wrapping her arms abruptly around Raven and hugging her. Raven clenched her teeth and slowly wrapped her arms around the taller woman. She did not remember feeling this before: a hug. Not since her mother's death, at least.

"No one considered you might be a victim as well." Kori whispered into her hair. Raven nodded jerkily. "I will speak on your behalf when the council is called."

Raven pulled back, shocked, looking up at the princess and uncertain how to respond. It was a heady thing, especially when this woman's husband wouldn't even look at her without cursing.

"What about Prince Richard?" she asked incredulously.

Kori seemed to consider. "I will deal with him." She said with a grim expression. She looked much like a warrior in that moment. Raven was startled to be reminded of the culture she came from. "You must focus on what you will say to the gathered." Raven nodded and stepped back. It felt strange to have the princess as her ally, but then again she shouldn't have been surprised. Koriand'r was quick to anger, but quick to forgive, and her loyalty was paramount.

Raven bowed her head, though the two possessed the same rank, and straightened. "I thank you. I'll go, now. I need time to consider what I will do and say." She said almost awkwardly. She turned to go, but Koriand'r caught her arm.

"Raven, wait a moment. Please… don't hold Richard's anger against him. He is a good man, simply… he felt betrayed as I did. He will forgive you when he sees your reasons are sound."

Raven shuddered slightly. For a moment, she could feel Richard's lips on her own. She closed her eyes and finally nodded slightly. She was a fool. She said nothing before she left, closing the door quietly behind her. Across the hallway, Tara glared unsubtly at her. They stood facing each other for a moment before Tara walked across and muscled past Raven.

A surge of anger hit her, but it faded as quickly as it had come. She was too tired, suddenly, to be angry. She turned and walked the long hall towards her own suite of rooms. She had much to think about before the council, and not nearly enough time to do it.


	17. Apologetic

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by burn to ashe**

"_Hold it together, birds of a feather_

_Nothing but lies and broken wings_

_I have the answer_

_Spreading the cancer_

_You are the faith inside me"_

_**-"Evil Angel" by Breaking Benjamin**_

**Disclaimer – I do not own. Do not sue.**

**Author Notes – Sorry it took so long. **

**- - -**

**Chapter Seventeen – Apologetic**

**17.1**

The day of the formal council arrived far more rapidly than Raven would have preferred. Despite her desire to know whether her travels had been a waste of time and effort, she wanted more and more time to prepare. She sat the morning of the council before her vanity, something she rarely chose to do; she studied her face, imagining a million hurts written plainly there. She knew that the council members would be unlikely to see those hurts. Instead, they would see the demon daughter of a demon king.

She looked away from her own reflection. She slid to standing, her hand lingering on the fine wooden surface as if to steady her, but she needed no assistance. Despite her anxiety, she was calm. What would come would come. That she had no plan that extended beyond today was something she could not afford to think about. If the council refused to help her, she would simply have to find something else, some other way, to kill her father and free Azarath.

She had no idea what that would be.

A knock at her door signaled the entrance of a man she had befriended since her arrival. He was one of the king's closest and oldest advisors, and he had taken a liking to Raven and her case, and had helped her prepare her speech. She may be a princess, but she had never addressed so many ranking individuals before. He had helped her to write what she wanted to say in such a way that those gathering today would listen.

His name was Lucius Fox.

"Princess, the council is ready for you." Fox spoke up. She nodded, unable to even summon up a small smile for him. Her calm was deceptive. She felt power, fear, emotions of all sorts building beneath the surface.

"Thank you, Fox." She murmured as he turned to allow her to pass him and proceed him into the hall. The walk to the chamber being used for the meeting of the council was the longest she could remember. She did not allow her mind to wander, nor even to rehearse the speech she had planned. She simply reached into her mind for the calm she had trained many years to achieve.

She saw Garfield standing to one side of the door, acting as a footman though he was a squire. He didn't meet her eye, but his expression was sad rather than angry. She nearly stopped to speak with him, but she knew she had neither time nor the emotional energy just then to talk to the younger man.

"Her Highness, Princess Raven of Azarath."

There was no sharp intake of breath. She was expected. The double doors swung open to allow her entrance. A long table stood before her, with the kings and queens of each of the allied nations sitting before her. Bruce sat at the head, as the hosting royal. Each kingdom's heirs stood behind their liege lords, and Raven held her eyes steady rather than looking around at each.

Her head was held high. Her gown was arrayed around her with a specific effect in mind. She wore white. It leant her strength while accented her femininity, and even a sense of physical fragility. Also, a pure white gown displayed no colors—not her father's, not Bruce's. She was as impartial as she could appear.

"You have been called before this concave of rulers to speak, your highness." Bruce leant her the styling that was hers by right of her father's conquer, because it did them both well to remind the other rulers that she was in fact royal herself, and not to be cast aside off hand. A game of thrones. That was all they assumed this was.

"I thank you, majesties, for allowing me this audience. As you all surely know, I am Raven of Azarath, daughter of Trigon the Terrible, the Demon King." She knew that proclaiming herself as such could do no real harm. None of the gathered would be ill informed as to who she was. "Yet I stand before you today, with but one simple request to put before you: I ask you to have to courage to kill my father." She said very simply. She could feel the weight of their eyes on her. Some were shocked at her turn of phrase, though the issue had been display, no doubt, before her entrance.

"Many of you will question my intentions, asking why I would want my father dead." She turned her violet eyes around the table, and one pair of green caught her attention. Koriand'r stood beside Richard, who stood behind Bruce. She nodded encouragement to Raven. They had not spoken since their strange reconciliation. Kori had not mentioned the kiss she had paid witness tp, and perhaps did not even remember. Raven herself had put it far out of her mind with her recent troubles.

She did not look at Richard.

"I tell you this in truth. My mother was a priestess of the order of Azar, and I share her gifts and her compassion for the people of Azarath, as well as the people of all nations who are in danger of feeling the demon king's wrath. I have healed those injured by his soldiers. I have risked my life to escape him, to come here where I might rally the support that would be his downfall. And now I beseech you to look past my lineage to one truth: together, you can defeat the Demon King, once and for all." Her speech done, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped back slightly.

No one spoke. She felt the tension rising, felt desperation creeping up in her until she felt she might explode.

Then Kori proved her worth as a friend. "My lords and ladies, I believe in Lady Raven's compassion and her words. She is a true advocate for a greater peace at the end of this night." She said simply. Raven opened her eyes quickly enough to see Koriand'r's eyes upon her father, who squirmed before he spoke up.

"My daughter speaks truth." He said simply. "I believe it to be so."

The chamber exploded. Raven was taken aback, lost in a wash of heated emotions: fear, despair, anger, disbelief. It swirled around her like a miasma, and she nearly choked upon it. She found strength in the figure of Lucius Fox, as he stepped to her side, lending her slight figure weight in the stormy river of such things. She glanced at him, her face pale and drawn, and he nodded encouragement to her.

"SILENCE!" Richard called out, speaking for his liege and king. Bruce stood, and all eyes came upon him slowly at first, and then with growing dedication.

"We must have a discussion, cousins, and then a vote, as this council is want to do." He said simply. The group seemed to agree to that much, and Raven felt the tension ease. Fox touched her shoulder and gestured lightly. He would lead her out. She need not stay: she had no formal vote, and worrying herself sick here would do her no good. Let her speech have made its impact, and if they wished to question her further, they could summon her.

She left with him. Koriand'r appeared a moment later to throw her arms around the shorter princess. She had a hopeful smile on her face.

"They will ride with you, I am sure. Once they have spoke of it, war will heat their blood and they will be unable to deny it." She spoke assuredly. She linked arms with Raven and led the other woman through the halls to an enclosed courtyard, where the sun beat down warmer than it had within the stone castle.

"Do you believe I have succeeded?" Raven spoke, softly and unsure of herself. Koriand'r had proven to be a true friend, but still she felt strange to speak of her fears so openly. "I fear not."

Koriand'r's expression was firm. "You have. I am sure."

"Here you are, my lady wife."

Raven's heart sunk, and Koriand'r turned, color rising into her face. "Richard." She said softly. The usual passion that enveloped the green eyed princess was lacking, and Raven hated Richard for making it flee. She turned to face him.

"Lady Raven, you have spoken with remarkable clarity and fire. The council will be hard pressed to deny your claim now." He spoke with a hint of distain to his voice. Koriand'r prickled up like a displeased cat, but Raven raised a hand subtly, to still her.

"I spoke what I believe, your Highness. If that be suspicious to you, I can do little to change your mind." She replied honestly.

"Indeed. Koriand'r, come."

Koriand'r shook her head. "Please, Richard, you must be kinder to Raven. She wishes for what we all do; I believe her, if you will not."

Richard stiffened, but relented. It seemed duty would not allow him to quarrel with his young wife, at least not in public. He relented and turned to Raven, bowing stiffly. "I apologize." He said. He paused and turned to Koriand'r, something queer in his eye. "Kori… can you leave us alone for a moment?"

Koriand'r, looking bright and hopeful, nodded enthusiastically. She smiled and stepped forward, brazenly brushing a kiss along Richard's cheek and moved past him. "Of course, my lord." She cast a glance at Raven over his shoulder and smiled. Raven did not share her mirth, and she soon disappeared back into the castle.

Richard looked at her, and she remembered suddenly the kiss they had shared, in rage and passion. She felt suddenly skittish. He reached for her, but she moved away.

"Richard,"

"No, don't… I am sorry. Really, truly sorry. I have never felt so… hopeless. Helpless. I fear for so much right now. You have become the brunt of that. That is inexcusable… and I am sorry."

She listened to his apology and shook her head. "I gave you reason to distrust me, and little reason to care for me. I deserve what you gave." A faint, dark smile flittered across his face.

"If I could but exorcize you from me… I am married, formally, by the laws of Tamaran and Gotham. If I but-"

She furrowed her brow as he trailed off. What did he mean? Why did he trail off? She felt her stomach twist and moved past him. "You would do well to tend to your wife. She is a dear friend to me."

But she fled before he could respond.


	18. Intended

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by burn to ashe**

"_little did we know_

_that they were life itself_

_the days passing by_

_we both had our share in the sacrifice_

_once upon a time_

_we had something beautiful_

_once upon a time_

_I thought "you and I?"_

_**-"Temples of Gold" by Kamelot**_

**Disclaimer – I do not own. Do not sue.**

**Author Notes – It's worth posting here my reasons that things have been so epically slow of late. I'm graduating college (undergrad) in about three and a half weeks, and my last two semesters have been crammed pack and busier than hell. So I apologize. I have plans to finish this story this summer, though, so do not lose hope! Last chapter also marked a brutal writer's block I had been suffering with this story, but now I feel it may have ended. I'm sorry it was so short. Hopefully a speedy update begins to make up for that? **

**- - -**

**Chapter Eighteen – Intended**

**18.1**

Raven lingered in the only place that came to mind when she thought of solace: the palace chapel. The chapel was for no god that she might follow, but the mere holiness of the place infused her soul and she felt more at peace than she would anywhere else. The stained glass windows rose far above her, depicting tales of sacrifice and love. She wished that the salvation of their god would extend to her, but she was very sure it would not. Demon daughter of a demon king.

She raised her head, hands politely folded, and bit her lip. The priests of Azar worshipped this god, she realized. They would have been called a heretical sect but it was the same god. She felt tears prick her eyes and clenched them closed. She felt fear, terrible fear, for the priests. She had no word that any yet lived. She had no word of Azarath at all. And now this.

The council was still out. It was well after midnight now, and only flickering candles lit the chapel in shaky, elusive light. The shadows loomed, and for the first time in her life she found no solace in them. Her solace was fleeting, disappearing, and she found herself standing alone. She had never felt so alone in her life, and it hurt more than she cared to admit. She leaned back in the wooden back pew, fingers pressed to her lips.

"Princess," the voice was so quiet she was sure she imagined it at first. But when it spoke again, she turned abruptly, frightened out of her own reverie. She relaxed almost immediately, however. It was Ryand'r who stood a polite distance away. She offered him a smile filled with quiet desperation. He bowed and approached, sitting beside her on the pew. He looked up into the stained glass.

"We do not worship such gods in Tamaran." He spoke up. "God." He corrected himself. The Gotham religion was monotheistic. Raven knew much of it from her time studying at the knees of the priests of Azar. "At least, it is a benevolent one?" he asked softly. She nodded. The Gotham's worshipped this god in a benevolent form, at least. She remembered the fire and destruction of the teachings of Azar and shivered, though.

Ryand'r noticed. Entirely too presuming, he slid an arm over her shoulders and drew her close against his side. Any other time, she would have hissed and spit like a displeased cat. Not just then. She turned into his shoulder and clung to him, desperate not to feel alone even for a few moments. He seemed to accept this in stride, wrapping strong arms around her. For a moment, and then another, she lingered. She could pretend this was fine, that she could just stay here forever, but she knew it wasn't true. Even in her most brave attempt at convincing herself, she knew it wasn't true. Hers was not to be a life filled with companionship.

She withdrew, slowly, reluctantly. He allowed it, but she could feel the hurt in him if not see it. He was a warrior of Tamaran, but he was also a kind young man. She looked away from him. Silence stretched between them, neither comfortable or awkward. Finally it was she who broke the silence.

"Has a vote come back?" she asked. It was a distant question, one she could ask of anyone. He seemed to take in stride her sudden distancing.

"Nothing yet. I suspect that it can not be much longer. My father is an impatient man, he will demand this all come to an end before dawn." He replied. Raven appreciated the wry humor in his voice when he spoke of his father.

"I hope you're right." She murmured almost too softly to even be heard.

**18.2**

Richard stood beside his liege and king, eyes cast forward. His wife's hand was tight on his arm, but he did not look at her. His eyes only stayed forward, as if unseeing. All he did see was _her_. Raven stood before the council once more, awaiting their judgment. His face was twisted into his best attempts at impartiality, but anyone who looked would see that no small measure of utter rage was written there. Every muscle in him was tense, unbending.

Beside him, he could tell Kori was displeased as well, but she bore it with quiet grace. He had missed how graceful his wife was. If he had cared to look at her now, he would have seen the face of a worthy queen.

Raven stood beneath the gaze of every ruler and heir in the allied nations, but she bore the attention lightly. She hadn't slept all night, and with the rising sun now glittering through the tall glass windows, to cast a halo around her, she must have been exhausted. He could see the dark smudges beneath her eyes, but she did not stoop or bend under the weight of fatigue. She tried to portray a look that was interested, but a measure impartial. He wondered why.

Then he knew why, and felt stupid for missing it.

"Princess Raven, the council has convened and decided on the issue your highness raised for us. Would you hear our ruling?" It was Bruce who spoke. As the host of this council, it fell to him to act as speaker as well. Raven looked him straight in the eye and inclined her head in a show of respect. "The council has decided,"

Richard watched her face pale even further, until he was afraid that she might lose her balance and fall before them. She acted as if she were fully healed from her various ordeals, but Kori had told him that Raven still walked with a limp when she had to move terribly fast. She still seemed so pale.

"to go to war." Bruce finished. Relief flooded Raven's eyes, but her face remained impassive. She inclined her head again. "Upon one condition."

She froze so quicklky that Richard was struck by it. The motion reminded him of the men he had seen whipped into obedience.

"Speak your condition, your Majesty." She replied, her deep alto voice carrying the length of the hall with surprising skill.

Bruce gestured and a young king rose from the table. He sat fourth party from Bruce's right hand. Richard had met him only once. He was a handsome, able bodied young man. A sailor, from an island nation. His name was Garth, and when his father had died some months ago, he had become the King of Atlantis.

"Our condition is this: you must bind yourself in alliance with us through marriage. We have chosen King Garth as your husband." Bruce explained. The King of Atlantis bowed his head to Raven gingerly, and she turned to curtsey deeply to him. Richard felt his stomach twist, and his hands clench into fists.

"Do you consent, Princess?" Garth asked her. His voice was watery and deep. He was all together a handsome man, with his long black hair and pale skin. Raven looked up at him from the deep curtsey and Richard was struck with how soft her expression was.

"I do, my lord." She spoke. Garth motioned her to rise. Though the long table separated them, he gestured her forward, where he took her hand and pressed a kiss to the knuckles. She seemed surprised, and a flush colored her pale features. A cheer went up. For a moment the gathered seemed to forget that she was the demon heir, and saw her merely as a fair skinned princess needing their protection.

Richard forgot as well, it seemed. He turned away, shrugged off Kori's hand, and stalked away. Kori stared after him, her green eyes darkened out of concern, and a measure of hurt.

**18.3**

Plans for the royal marriage were hurried along. Raven barely had time to acquaint herself with her fiancé when she kept being swept away to have gown fittings and to decide this or that—paltry details that meant very little. Her impression of Garth was that he was a charming man, and an honorable one, but she would have felt more comfortable if she had been given a chance to converse with him openly some. It didn't much matter, though. She would be marrying him regardless of whether she liked him or not. Royal marriages were not made out of love, or even affection. She had no delusions of that.

Ryand'r was a solitary rock in her ordeal. He made it a point to accompany her to her fittings, to her meetings, and simply be her friend. Kori tried to be much the same, but her dear friend was consumed with planning the wedding herself, as well as taking upon the duties of the wife of the crowned prince. Raven did not begrudge her the domesticity that came of finally settling into her new home. She was actually quite happy for Kori.

Ryand'r stood waiting for her just outside of the seamstress's suite, as he often did, and bowed when she emerged. She offered an exhausted smile, which he returned brightly. He offered his arm, and she consented.

"I will be glad when all of this is done." She said with finality. She had no taste for these intricate proceedings. The wedding was rapidly approaching, but she had little mind for it all. She had been quite far away mentally of late. The date was so close because the council had demanded they witness the binding of the demon princess to her future husband, and none wished to be away from their homes overlong. Raven felt the walls closing in around her rather rapidly.

"Soon, princess." He replied. "Two days yet." He spoke up. She nodded her head and closed her eyes, glad to be out of that terrible white gown. She appreciated the skill of the seamstress, of course, but if she had been given leave to design her own gown, it would have been much simpler cut that the one they had made for her. She said nothing about that, of course.

"Two days." She echoed softly. "Too soon." She breathed nearly silently. Ryand'r heard her, though, but he was sure she did not realize it. Pain flickered through his green eyes. He raised his eyes to see they were nearly to run into Garth himself, who bowed with a flourish to his future bride. She curtsied as well, and Ryand'r released her.

"I would steal my lady from her, good prince, if you do not mind." Garth spoke to Ryand'r. The Tamaranian prince bowed deep.

"Of course not, your majesty." He turned to Raven and bowed as well. "Princess, if you have need of me, simply call for me." He said earnestly. She inclined her head in thanks, and he hurried away. She turned violet eyes upon her future husband's face, and he smiled warmly. As always, she sensed something guarded about him, something quietly hidden. She dared not guess what, though.

"I thought perhaps we might ride out for a time, to escape the chaos of this coming wedding." His suggestion was mildly scandalous, but no one would complain. They were the both of them to be married so soon. Nothing they might do mattered overmuch. She had no intentions of giving him sex if they did ride, not today. Instead her mind turned to the last casual ride that she had gone on, and her face flushed. "You do not wish it?" he asked then, surprise evident.

"Ah, it's not that, my lord. I… and not much of a rider." She replied feign-casually. "It is rather a sight to be seen, actually." She replied. He smiled, and then broke into laughter at her words, as if he could not imagine what she was saying to be true. She huffed to herself, irritation flickering across her face. He held up a hand.

"I apologize, my lady. I must admit to having heard tales of your lack of skill. I wanted to see for myself how rough your skills must be. I thought to offer instruction to you." He said. She steeled her expression. She did not overmuch like being made a fool of. She dropped into a deep curtsey.

"I must decline, regardless. I have many duties to attend this afternoon. It would not due to become lax in them. Good day." She said, turning heel and walking rapidly away, her skirts swaying with the clip of her irritation. Garth was left standing behind her, flabbergasted into silence. She doubted he was used to hearing women tell him 'no'.


	19. Stolen

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by burn to ashe**

"Cease the pain  
Life's just in vain  
For us to gain  
Nothing but all the same

No healing hand  
For your disease  
Drinking scorn like water  
Cascading with my tears"

_**-"Two for Tragedy" by Nightwish**_

**Disclaimer – I do not own. Do not sue.**

**Author Notes – My reviews for this piece are getting longer and longer! I love it! I'm so glad that the coming marriage was met with such interest, and I must also admit that I'm a little surprised at the popularity of the Ryand'r/Raven pairing. I assure this piece is still a Robin/Raven piece, but it is good to know I can elicit such fondness in you for other characters! This chapter has also been a long time coming, I assure you, but next chapter should be a real action piece. Though I must admit that I went back and reworked some things after reading the last few rounds of reviews. I hope everyone likes what I've done. **

**- - -**

**Chapter Nineteen – Stolen**

**19.1**

Kori was hard pressed to stifle her giggles as she looked away, a fist pressed to her lips. Raven squirmed, but light humor plucked at the corners of her mouth. She had only just left the King of Atlantis stewing in his own ire at her impudent behavior. She had sought out Kori for advice, but it seemed the princess was too taken by her amusement at Raven's behavior. She looked up at Raven's expression and dissolved further into giggles. Her ladies in waiting tried very hard not to look at the Tamaranian princess and her scandalous behavior, but with such mirth present, no one would dare scold.

"That was probably not your best decision, friend Raven, but I must admit it is quite funny." Kori said as she regained some measure of composure. She straightened her skirts and turned with a bright smile to look at Raven, who sat arranged on the opposite couch with some trepidation, as a bird might alight on a fence knowing a cat watched it.

"What else was I supposed to do?!" Raven retorted. She was quite exasperated over the whole thing. She knew there could be consequences, and it did not do to make her future husband angry, but she couldn't help it. "He was such a priggish ass about it." She said stiffly. She was surprised as her own indignation, but Kori seemed nonplussed by it. Her dark skinned friend poured wine for them both, and offered a glass to Raven.

"Perhaps the King of Atlantis has a good sense of humor?" Kori suggested cheerfully. She did not seem overly concerned about the whole thing, which put Raven at ease significantly.

"At his own expanse, I doubt it." Raven replied gloomily. She drank some of the wine before setting the glass aside. "It is not as if I mind this marriage. Surely you must understand that, if anyone." She referenced Kori's own marriage, one of duty and arranged without her consent. Kori hesitated before setting her own wine aside.

"Duty I understand. But it is not as easy as I had thought it would be…" she squirmed. Raven furrowed her brow, but said nothing. "I love my husband." She said. "At one point, I would have said he felt at least affection for me, something that could have been love… one day…" she trailed off, looking so deflated and sad that it nearly broke Raven's heart. At once she wanted to throttle Richard, and then paled. She thought of what he had said only days ago, and her hand shook as she blindly reached for her wine. Downing half, she closed her eyes.

"Friend Raven?" Concern was in Kori's voice as she looked at Raven, but Raven shook her head. She forced a smile and looked up.

"It's nothing. Thank you." She felt a heavy weight on her chest, but knew she wouldn't have time or inclination to ponder what this all meant. She wanted to believe she was blowing it out of proportion, but even now she could feel where he'd touched her, feel it burning. She exhaled, slowly, softly. "I should go." She said then. Kori leaned over and touched her arm.

"What is wrong?" She asked so sincerely it was like a blade to Raven's gut. She could not respond. Guilt was thick. She could blame Richard, but was he truly the only one at fault.

"Nothing is wrong." She lied with a straight face. "I had asked your princely brother to escort me into town, to the shops. There are a few things I need to purchase for the wedding and I would prefer to do it myself." The lie flowed easily from her lips; too easily for her own comfort. She inclined her head, but did not wait for Kori to respond. She didn't wish to think overlong on any talk of marriages or weddings.

Once alone in the hall, she exhaled deeply and continued on towards her own chambers.

**19.2**

Tara delivered wine for her lady and the demon-bitch but managed to keep her expression straight. Something was between the two of them that distracted them, and Raven did not even acknowledge her. All for the better. It was easier to note the details that Slade had asked for when she did not have to feign modesty or aloofness.

She slipped from the princess's chambers and hurried down the hall. If Raven were meeting with Princess Koriand'r, then her own chambers were empty. It took boldness, but no real skill to enter them once she found them. She walked boldly inside, eyes scanning every available surface, repeating over and over to herself what she should be seeking.

A mirror. A most ornate and magical thing, that would be used to cripple and eventually kill the demon-bitch. It took her longer than she would have liked to find it, but when she did she grinned and laughed to herself. She stole a shift and wrapped the mirror very carefully. She had been told very specifically to not let the thing get broken.

She was much more interested to watch might be done with it to hurt Raven. Tara wanted to see her hurt.

In the end, it was her attunement to the earth that alerted her that someone was coming. She swore under her breathe and darted for the main door. She barely slipped out and closed the door behind her when she heard footsteps approaching from the direction she had just come from. She took off in the opposite direction. She needed to report to Slade, and give him what she had procured.

She only hoped he would use it soon.

**19.3**

"My servant was able to steal the mirror, Lord Trigon." The words slid off of Slade's tongue like silk off of his shoulders. He was a tall man, but the demon king's ethereal visage towered over him. If he were intimidated, he showed it not at all.

"Excellent work, slave." Slade chaffed at the nomenclature. None of it showed on his form at all. "Keep it for now. The timing could not be more perfect. Tonight, at midnight's stroke, my daughter will turn twenty years old."

Slade's voice was a smirk. "I believe you should send the princess a gift, my lord. It is only fitting. Do you not think so?"

The rumbling noise that enused was a form of laughter. Slade felt it in his bones.

"You're beginning to catch on, Slade. I shall tell you what you must do."

**19.4**

Richard hesitated when he realized that the courtyard was not empty, but chose to enter rather than turn aside and leave. This place had once been sacred to him. Though not official, this place had always been largely his. Other than gardeners and the like, of course. Now, however, he found the object of so much of his distraction was present, and looking more flustered than a handful of leaves in a strong storm wind.

He wondered why.

Any number of reasons could attribute, he supposed. She was to be married in a mere two days. That alone could cause the nerves. That she was marrying a man that she barely knew… he could sympathize.

She noticed him before he spoke, and she tensed. He hated that tension written on her face. He hadn't spoken to her since the decision of the council had come back. Too much lay undisturbed between them. He had spoken, inadvertently, to Victor since then, who had laid him out for his behavior.

i"You care too much to hate her outright. All of us were hurt, Richard… but I, for one, stand behind her."/i The words now haunted him, and he knew Victor had a point. Several, in fact.

Raven shook him out of his reverie, however, and inclined her head stiffly. "Your highness. I will leave you alone."

"No, no, please. Remain." He said, nigh absentmindedly. He shook his head. She hesitated, but conceded, shrinking down into a seated position. Her eyes turned away. "What is wrong?"

She shook her head. "Nothing you can fix, I assure you."

"Do you hate your intended thus?" he asked. "If you do-"

"No!" she assured, though her eyes told the truth. She did not love Garth. "It is not my marriage," She did not lie then, he realized with a start. "I am simply wrapped into my own mind, overmuch. I apologize for troubling you."

"It is no trouble." He said too easily, and turned away. A long, uncomfortable moment of silence stretched between them. "Raven," her name was exotic, and rolled from his tongue with trouble. "Do you hate me?"

She looked startled. "I thought I might ask that of you." She said finally. They exchanged a long, tired look. "I do not hate you, your highness," she began.

"Richard," he interrupted.

She paused. "Richard." She repeated with reluctance. Something crossed her face that he could not quite read. Whatever it was, it drove her to her feet. "You make your wife unhappy." She said finally. He blinked, shocked to hear it. Guilt drove into him, but also a measure of defensive frustration. He took an involuntary step forward. She stood her ground.

"What do you know of it?" he bit back a retort. "It is you I cannot get out of my damned head! You, like a spell, driven into the recesses, and unable to be exorcized," he cut off, frustrated. His teeth bared, he growled a wordless sound into the air. Her face darkened, but her temper she kept firmly checked. He hated her for that, too.

"It is no will of mine that I rest so in your mind." She snapped. "I do not wish to hurt your princess wife. I far from cherish that you think of me so often. Do you wish me to weep and sigh, pine after you like so many of the women of the court?" she spat. "You presume much." She snapped.

He turned on her. He wanted to break that strong façade, and before he could stop himself he raised his arms and clamped them down on her arms. His grip was strong, but no show of pain or distress crossed that face. He had seen her concerned before, but nothing now. It galled him. In anger, he shoved her away. And like the bird she was named after, she flew.

He paled when he realized what he had done. She lay in a heap on the stone floor of the courtyard. If she did not move for a moment, it was perhaps because she was stunned. When she did move, she climbed to her feet quickly. He took a step back, stumbled, and fell himself.

Red eyes. Demon eyes. He cried out, which seemed to change her again. She cried out and turned away, hands clutching at her own head. She fell to her knees, shaking her head. Part of him wished to flee, the rest to approach her. His nerves settled on leaving him on the ground as she writhed and twisted. He feared she would regain herself ever as long minutes passed. Eventually, though, her arms fell away and she looked at him. With relief, he saw her eyes were the same startling violet he'd noticed so long ago. He exhaled, only now realizing he'd been holding his breath.

She said nothing as she watched him. She looked years older, with all the weight of her curse on her. For a moment, he felt her understood her better. She was a victim in this. He felt foolish for his paltry concerns. It took great effort, but he crawled towards her, where she remained in a heap of skirts and her own exhaustion.

"Raven," he managed. She looked at him, but could not summon the strength to ward him off. He reached for her, and touched her face. Her eyes closed, and if he had not known better, he would have sworn it was tears that lingered unshed. But Raven did not cry, and when she opened her eyes to look at him, she swallowed hard.

"I should go," she managed.

"You should," he agreed. Neither moved. He leaned towards her, cupped her face with his hands gingerly, and kissed her. It wasn't like it had been before. What had been chaste and soft before, here became hard and bruising, intense and filled with a passion neither had been able to feel for too long. She clasped fingers in his doublet. He held her close, hard.

As abruptly as it had begun, they parted. Looking nearly sick, Raven looked up at him, and hissed to herself, resting her forehead against his chest. Instead of pushing her away, he groaned. Whether it was unsatisfied desire or something else, he couldn't have said just then. They remained in each other's arms for a long moment, tangled.

"What are we going to do?" he managed

"Nothing," she said. She didn't move. "We can do nothing. Richard, I should tell you… if something should happen, and I am unable to seal this alliance through marriage… if I should become my father's puppet in truth…" she took a steadying breath, for all the good it did. "Please, if it must be done… I want you to be the one to kill me." She said too stiffly. He stiffened, but somehow the statement wasn't entirely unexpected. "The demon king's only true weakness is me," she managed. He didn't know what to say. What could he have said?

She was ready to die. He had seen those lashed and led to gallows that were not as prepared as this young woman was. If he had ever wondered at her intentions, those doubts were fled now. It took some time, but eventually she gathered her wits about her like a cloak and was gone. He remained for a long time, rehearsing her words in his mind until well after night fell. She had wanted a promise that she would die by his hand. He had not given it. He didn't know if he could kill her, even if he must.

Even to defend Gotham. It was not a comforting thought, and it kept him awake until well after midnight.


	20. Birthmarked

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by burn to ashe**

"_It's nights like these that make you sleep all day_

_It's nights like these that make you feel so far away_

_It's nights like these that no one knows for sure_

_It's nights like these I don't want you anymore"_

_**-"Nights Like These" by Lucero**_

**Disclaimer – I do not own. Do not sue.**

**Author Notes – Last I checked, there were 124 reviews, and I feel humble and thankful and don't really know what to say. I love this story, and even though I take some time to update, I know I have loyal readers. That makes me think that—somehow—I have created something that people enjoy, that means something... I thank all of you. This chapter is one that has been coming awhile. I hope I do the themes justice. Remember, review (it's my lifeblood!).**

**Also... ten days until the FOUR YEAR anniversary of when I first posted this story on . Strange, huh? **

**Much love!-Ashe**

**- - -**

**Chapter Twenty – Birthmarked**

**20.1**

Midnight struck. Her eyes flew open, and she gasped. Her throat constricted. She felt the burning consume her, and take form on limbs beneath bedgown and blanket. She threw blankets aside, but did not cry out even when she saw the raised, ugly red marks drawn carelessly down her arms, her torso, and her legs. She felt the same on her face, and knew without a doubt that she was damned.

It did not escape her that it was her birthday. She had known that for days, and anticipated this time when her own powers would increase with a sense of dread. It seemed that even now her father could tap into her powers, as he was doing now. Her vision clouded and turned red, but wavered and returned to normal. She stumbled out of bed and landed in a heap on the floor. The sound had surely woken the maid who slept in the next room, Raven knew. She could not let the woman see her thus.

"Princess Raven?" the woman called through the door. Discretion, it seemed, was in her training.

"Go away!" Raven screamed before she could temper the pain to speak normally. She cried out, doubled over. She heard the woman run, soft soled shoes padding against the floors as she did. Somehow Raven doubted the maid was simply taking a break. She would return with others. Raven panicked and forced herself to her feet.

And it was gone. All of it. The pain, the markings... she was clean of them. Gasping for air, now because of shock, she pressed a hand to her mouth and closed violet eyes. Had she imagined them? Impossible. She knew it to be so. It had been real.

She trembled. Hand resting against the flat wood of a table, she took steadying breaths, until she heard the door very cautiously opened. In it, stood two individuals—the maid she had dismissed so readily, and one she had not expected: Lucius Fox. The older man inclined his head to her in greeting, and dismissed the maid yet again. When he came forward, she realized he had a bag with him.

She was puzzled.

"I thought you might wish to keep... whatever it is that's troubling you... quiet." he said charitably. She sighed in relief and nodded, but said nothing. He set aside the bag, and withdrew some sort of bottle stoppered with fragerant wood. When he opened it, she was assaulted by the sweet, soothing scent of it. He offered it to her.

"A soothing draught. It should help you sleep off the nerves. You are, after all, nervous about your impending wedding." His statement suggested that's the story he would be telling everyone else, should the story of her restlessness leak out (and knowing the habits of the maids, it would). She took the bottle and looked at him with naked thankfulness in her eyes. He did not ask for an explanation, and she did not offer one. His explanation would be readily accepted, for it was something normal enough, even for a demon princess.

She drank the draught off. It tasted of mint and chamomile and something nutty. Pleasant, if too sweet for her tastes.

"There you go, my lady. Now, rest well. I will see to it you are not bothered until you awaken normally." he took the bottle and replaced the stopper, all very efficiently. She returned to her bed, almost meek, and curled back under the covers. The draught had made her drowsy, as she was sure it had been intended. Fox gave her a very fatherly—true fatherly—smile before he excused himself and closed the door after him.

She closed her eyes, feeling the deep sleepiness filling each of her limbs. It hadn't been real, surely. Doubt was so easy when she felt so heavy, so warm—too warm!

Fire!

She was choking. Hands found her throat as eyes flew open. The hangings on her bed, the coverlet, the rugs... everything aflame. She panted, but choked on smoke. Too real. Absolutely real.

A voice boomed throughout the room. Her father's.

"IF YOU WILL NOT COME, YOU WILL SERVE YOUR PURPOSE WHERE YOU STAND, MOST DUTIOUS DAUGHTER!"

Tears filled her eyes as terror claimed her.

"YOU WILL BE WHAT I REQUIRE OF YOU! YOU WILL BE THE FOCUS OF MY POWER! YOU HAVE NO CHOICE!"

She watched the fire crawl all around her, licking at flesh, marking her. Sharp pain. Through the haze, she saw the fire climb the walls, and form her father's favored symbol on the wall opposite her sight. She could not deny his power, with her eyes stripped of mortal bindings. He was all around her. He WAS her.

"MY BELOVED DAUGHTER," He laughed, and laughed.

She cried out, screamed her denial in mind and body. Eyes she clenched against bright fire and smoke thick and dark. Something snapped. She fell forward, resting against a coverlet untouched by flame. Her eyes opened, her breathing just as ragged now with fear as before with smoke. The room was untouched.

A dream. No, a vision.

And she knew better than to doubt again.

**20.2**

Richard was in the antechamber to his room, pacing the length. At least if he could not sleep, he would not pretend otherwise. He was restless, torn in his own soul. Within his own bedchamber, his wife laid sleeping, unbeknownst to her husband's turmoil. What had he done? What had Raven done to him? He wanted to blame her, wanted it so badly, but knew her too well to lie to himself about her.

When it came, it came suddenly. The urge to move. He grabbed his sword belt and slung it around his hips. He met a page in his passing, nodding off on the job. It was Garfield, he realized after a moment. The green-tinted youth looked up at his liege and friend with a bit of guilt to him, and tried to grin it all off. If he realized anything was wrong, he hid it, and Richard had doubts that Garfield could hide anything of import from anyone else.

"Couldn't sleep?" Garfield asked cheerfully enough. Richard shook his head, still sober and now feeling somehow cornered. "I can't say I've had the same problem. Good food and long days of work, and I am exhausted," he said it all with a smile. Richard realized that even living as a page, Garfield was living better than he had when he was a forest boy. Strange, to think it.

Novel a thought though it was, it did not claim Richard's attention long, and soon he had returned to the melancholy that was his lot, it seemed. He bid Garfield a good evening's work, and stepped into the hallway. He had intended to see solace (or at least quiet for his disquiet thoughts) but found that he stepped into something altogether different. A commotion, though kept nearly silent, as not to plague the prince and his royal bride. Richard stepped forward, and intercepted a servant.

"What has happened?" he asked, unsure if he wanted an answer. He was blind to the fact that Garfield had followed him into the hall, as drawn to the chaos as Richard himself.

"Oh, my lord," the man bowed deep, surprised to have found the prince at his elbow, and without warning. "It is the Lady Raven, my lord;" Richard's heart clenched. "It seems she woke screaming about fire. Disturbed her maid, it seems, and it's taking a physician and servants to calm her down again." Nerves may have showed on the servant's face, but Richard was already gone, moving down the hall with intent and little thought of decorum.

'Raven,' his mind whispered. What had happened to her?

**20.3**

Raven was pressed back to bed by the hands of strangers, maids and servants that she had never met, or never noted. Fear built up in her breast until she finally struck back. Her powers flared to life, and she threw a servant back several feet, where he sprawled, unmoving. She retreated, ever backwards, until her back thudded against the stone of the wall. Near blind with her own panic, she kept the servants and physician at bay, screaming wordlessly at any who dared draw near.

She didn't see him enter, but she sensed him. Not Richard, whom she might have expected. Not Ryand'r, either. Victor. He appeared amongst the others, hands held with palms outward, and approached very slowly. He did not instill the same panic the others had. She whimpered when he drew close enough to wrap one of his massive hands around her slender shoulder, but did not strike out at him.

"Rae... Rae, it's me. Victor. I'm your friend, remember?" he was concerned. No one should blame him for that. She wasn't human, just then, with her fear and panic and rage. But his touch broke something, and she struck at him. He responded with reflexes she couldn't have guessed he possessed. Then she remembered. Mage. He shielded against her power, and was forced back only a few steps. He took those back. "Please, Rae, listen to me. I'm not going to hurt you."

She wanted to believe him. The part of her capable of thinking remembered him fondly. During their travels, she had come to think of him as almost an elder brother. Victor had made her wish that she could have been someone else, someone he would have actually wanted for a sister... or a friend. But now he spoke as if they were friends. She had not spoken to him since her great betrayal, but he seemed to think of her as a friend still. It hurt, she realized. It hurt to think that he might still want to be close to her... she did not deserve it.

He closed his arms around her, holding her close. She clung to him for a moment, but finally pushed him away with surprising strength of her own. "Leave me. Get them out of here." she breathed, her speech rapid if whispered. "OUT!" she yelled, a wave of her hand pushing the mass of people further towards the door. Victor was stubborn, he made to move towards her again, but she snarled at him. "I have no choice. I have to, I have... to... I have no choice." she murmured, loud enough for him to hear, but garbled enough that she was sure he wouldn't understand.

With a final wave of her hand, she turned into the form of a raven, her namesake, her father's standard, and disappeared through stone and wood. She traveled up, ever upward, towards the ramparts of the castle. When finally she took human form again, she leaned against the stone wall and pressed her forehead there, willing the day to be over, willing her life gone, whatever would spare her, and those she had come to love, what would befall them all soon enough.

**20.4**

"She disappeared," Victor explained. Richard clenched a hand, spun, feeding his own anger as he collided knuckle with stone. If he hissed, it was not in pain, but frustration.

"Where has she gone? I have to find her!" Richard snapped.

"Friend Richard?" It was Kori who appeared in the hall, cleared now of servants. Victor, Garfield, and Richard had been alone, and now she was the fourth. "Has something happened to friend Raven?" Concern etched itself across her face. In those startling emerald eyes, Richard found strength he wouldn't have looked for. He forgot, sometimes, that she came from a warrior people, and she herself was no wilting flower, despite her brightness.

"Raven freaked out and now she's gone!" Garfield exploded. His speech was informal and rough, but it served its purpose. Kori flushed and shook her head.

"Where has she gone?" her words, unknowingly, echoed Richard's own.

"I don't know." Victor managed softly.

"We're going to find her." Richard said darkly.

**20.5**

"Such a pretty disaster." The deep, cultured voice interrupted Raven's reverie. She spun to find the same bronzed edifice staring intently at her that she had seen before. The man, armored and dark in the shadows after midnight, surprised her. He topped her height easily by a head and a half, and he was broad of shoulder. She knew firsthand that he was strong.

She felt strange. She wore only a linen bedgown and a cloak thrown hastily over her shoulders when the first of the servants had begun to arrive. She was barely decent to be seen, and she felt nearly naked beneath that strange scrutiny. She shivered.

"Slade," she breathed. The name was bidden from the corners of her nightmares. He was her father's servant, and one she had never known before he had been set upon her trail. "What do you want now?" she asked sharply. Fear betrayed her, leeching into her voice to set a quiver to it.

"Many things, princess, but first... your father sends well wishings on the anniversary of your birth," he smiled, and though she could not see it, she could hear it in his voice. She shook and spun, intending to run but he was fast. He caught her by the back of the gown, and tore loose the cloak; a great ripping noise was all she heard, but she felt the gown torn down the back. She stumbled and fell, feeling palms and knees bruise from the impact with the hard stone. She ignored it and pushed to her feet.

This time, she ran. She took to the air, leaping off of the wall, down into a courtyard, and using her powers only enough to govern the speed of her fall. She landed lightly, and ran for a door into the castle, hoping for the strange turnings of corridors and the darkness of night to cover her flight.

It was poor luck that she ran into Richard and the others around the first turn she took. Cries of her name were joyous or concerned, but she skidded near to a halt before them and turned. Surely enough, Slade was hot on her heels, and did not even look concerned. She was gasping, fear and exertion and so much more. Richard caught her by the shoulders to steady her, but followed her gaze to Slade readily enough.

"General Slade," he gasped, as if shocked. Raven was shocked, herself. He knew this man? She would have felt betrayed had Richard not seemed angry and wary and suddenly possessive. Raven pushed away from him, and found an honor guard had assembled around her. Garfield at her left, Victor at her right, and Koriand'r standing just in front of her, her green eyes flashing, and hands glowing with a similar green light. "What is this?" Richard demanded from Slade, even as the man approached.

"Oh, princeling, trying to play the man, and protect the damsel in distress? I assure you, she needs no protection of yours, my prince," there was laughter in his voice as he said it, mocking all the while Richard's title as if it meant nothing. "Now step aside, my boy, you wouldn't want to get hurt,"

"We will not step aside and allow you to harm friend Raven!" Kori shouted before Richard could respond. He turned to look at his wife with a measure of surprise. She was fierce in her devotion to protect Raven, it seemed, and that warmed Richard. Richard drew his sword and stepped into an offensive position, squaring off against the man. He may possess no magic of his own, but neither did the general.

Or at least, he had thought so.

Slade summoned great fire to his hands, fashioning a sword of his own. With preternatural speed, grace, and skill, he dealt with Richard, Garfield, Victor, and Kori as if they were nothing. He sent each flying away from Raven, breaking down their defenses as if it had meant nothing more than a bothersome fly might. Richard climbed to his feet quickly, regaining his footing, and charged. Slade turned, catching Richard under his guard, and soon the prince of Gotham was sprawled again, this time clutching at some wound to his chest that darkened his shirt with blood.

Raven darted forward, using a brush of her powers to send Slade sprawling himself. He flew down the corridor, tumbling end over end, until he stilled. She stood firm, attempting to gather her courage, to defend her friends if not herself. Slade clamored to his feet, amused if nothing else.

"The princess has fight to her, it seems. This will prove to be interesting after all, it seems." he came towards her, stalked her backwards. When she raised a hand to summon more magic, he grasped her wrist with strength. She cried out. It felt as if lightning had touched her, setting every nerve aflame. When she crumbled to the ground, her torn sleeve revealed more of her arm, and underneath the same red markings she had so desperately hoped were a dream.

"Leave her alone!" Richard snarled. He had not risen. He was bleeding, and unsteady, it seemed. Raven paled, gasped, and watched as Slade approached the groaning, fallen prince.

"I was not told to kill another, but neither was I told to spare you... princeling," Slade grabbed the young man by the front of his shirt, drew him up, and with the other hand drew back his sword, as if to strike home with the blade. He meant to kill Richard.

Raven cried out in denial, and it was as if a great measure of her power flooded the hall, and beyond. Everything stilled. Time stopped. When she dared open her eyes, she looked about herself, shocked, and realized what she had done. Then she wasted no time. She leaped forward, using Richard's own blade to cut through the shirt that Slade clenched, and caught the prince as he fell towards the ground. Something in her touch had freed him from the time freeze, and he groaned in her arms.

"Raven?" he murmured. She shook her head. She could already see that Slade was breaking free of her control. She closed her eyes and allowed the shadows to consume both herself and Richard, teleporting them elsewhere for now. They needed time... she needed time. If she could only escape tonight, she would have more time to plan, to prepare the way for someone to finally rid the world of Trigon the Terrible, King of Azarath.

When they landed, Richard collapsed into a heap, and Raven longed to do the same. Her head was reeling in many ways, and not least of them that she had managed to stop time. She had never done such a thing before.

"How did you..." Richard managed, but she cut him off.

"I don't know. Richard," she cut off, too flustered to even look at him. "We need to get away from him." she said, then. She was unsure why she was saying this, why she had taken him with her. To save his life? Perhaps. Or perhaps as comfort to herself. She did not have time to ponder her actions through. Her heart was in her throat, beating violently, and threatening to dispense with the contents of her stomach if she were not careful.

"What is going on?" he insisted. He pushed to his feet, weakened, but now with the strength of a purpose to him. "What are you not telling me?" he asked stiffly. Raven turned and looked at him.

"It is my birthday." she said simply. "Something terrible is going to happen." she added, miserable to herself. Richard crossed to her and caught her face between his hands. His own wound still bled, but he seemed not to note it overmuch. She looked up at him, though, startled and her eyes naked of all the great defenses she had used for years. And he saw fear in her eyes.

"Raven..." he breathed. She would have crumbled, but it simply wasn't an option.

"Isn't this just a lovely image? The princeling and the princess... like something from a tale,"

Raven spun, and Richard released her to grasp for a sword he did not have. He stood before her, arm outstretched as if to ward her by mortal means alone. She did not precisely cower, but having Richard between her and Slade was cold comfort, but some comfort was better than none. Her options were running thin.

"Leave her be," Richard snapped. Slade laughed.

"I have a message for the birthday girl. Surely you would not deny me that much." he simply purred. Richard darkened.

"Raven, run!"

Richard dove for Slade, attacking with bare hands. Wrestling was nothing he was overtly good at, but he had natural grace and strength. He thought, perhaps, he could best him, if the gods smiled favorably upon him. He landed a few strikes, but even when he heard bone crack and arms bend, it seemed not enough. And he was proven right.

Raven ran. She responded to instinct when Richard called out to her. She bolted, unsure of where she even was. It seemed she was in the midst of the large, formal gardens. She took little note of where she ran, only knowing that she fled as fast as she could. Behind her, she heard the fight. When it fell out of her hearing, she slowed to a halt, panting, and looked behind her, searching for Slade's visage coming after her. She did not see him, which both frightened her, and heartened her. She hoped Richard was alright.

She turned, and barely kept a shriek from her throat. Somehow, Slade had worked his way ahead of her, and now stood closer than she would have thought someone could get without her notice. He reached out and grabbed her by her upper arms.

"Your fate is irreversible. You have no choice." She cried out as the vision crashed into her mind. Destruction. Terrible destruction. Her father's ideal fate for all the known kingdoms, and beyond. And her, the pawn of his plans. She pushed the vision from her, and Slade released her, to stumble back a few steps. She regained her footing fast, and took to the skies in flight.

To her dismay, he followed, hot on her heels. She soared, not daring to revel in the joy of flight as she raced for one of the towers, the tallest watchtower the castle had to offer. Slade caught her before she could dart past, and forced them both to land with a thump that rattled her teeth. She tried to struggle away from him, but was unable to. He was stronger than her. She knew that.

"It will come to pass. The skies will turn to blood. Flesh to stone. And you... you are the key to it all. See yourself what will come to pass." And she did. The vision came upon her violently, as the change in her body did. Her hair grew, her body aged, and she refined as if by fire. The skies darkened and grew light, as if too much time passed, and yet never enough. And she saw them all. Stone faces twisted in agony, and now for eternity. Her friends. And she was the key.

She was the key to her father's powers.

Wordless screams tore from her throat, animal ones heavy with her own pain and terror. Her denial was implicit, her fear strange even to her own tongue. It was as if this moment was so terrible, so impossible, that she could do nothing but believe in it. And she knew, somehow, that even without her will... it had begun.

The end of the world.

**20.6**

Richard came to after long moments of unconsciousness. He was still bleeding, surely but slowly, and Slade was gone. He groaned to his feet, puzzled for a moment that he was injured, laying in a heap. He could not—quite--remember what had happened. But recollection returned as rapidly as his balance did, and he ran. Raven... for no reason he could fathom, Slade wanted Raven. Something to do with her father, but he knew nothing more.

He hated not knowing.

He rounded a corner, then another. He didn't know where to look for her. She could be anywhere. She could be-- but no, she wasn't dead. Her father wanted her alive. He turned his eyes to the sky, to gage by the moon how long he had been unconscious. What he found, instead, was Raven silhouetted against the heady light of the full moon, and Slade standing just behind her. It was a startling image, a chilling one.

He took to the stairs two, three at a time as he ran up the long tower. Somehow, though, he knew he wouldn't make it. Not in time.

She was falling, then. Disbelief clouded his face, and he knew he had to do... something. His eyes scanned everything around him, and he spotted a long, trailing banner in the colors of Gotham. He doubted ti would hold him, but anything to slow her fall, and to insure that she wouldn't die when she hit the ground.

Before he had utilized a great deal of logic, he had grabbed the banner in one hand and propelled himself off of the ramparts. Boots scraped against stone and then there was only air. He reached, hoping but terrified he would miss... but then he had her. She collided with him with such force that he felt the banner tear, dumping them both onto the stairs beneath where he had jumped. He took the brunt of the fall, shoulder colliding with stone as he fell. His hissed in pain, but was too distracted by emotional distress to care for pain.

Slade was gone when he looked towards the place she had fallen from. She groaned, fighting off the daze that had kept her maleable. She looked up with clouded violet eyes, but it seemed that there was recognition there. Richard thanked every lucky star that she was alive.

Little did he know that this nightmare was merely the herald of many more to come.


	21. Resurrected

**The Place That We Call Home**

**by burn to ashe**

"_Half a week before the winter_

_The chill bites before it comes_

_I'm a child of the pleasure_

_That he brings before he runs_

_He sits behind a desk of mahogany_

_He whispers dreams into my ears_

_Though I've given him his empire_

_He delivers me my fear"_

_**-"Half a Week Before the Winter" by Vanessa Carlton**_

**Disclaimer – I do not own. Do not sue.**

**Author Notes – Last chapter was pretty intense, I felt. This chapter is a recovery from that, and won't be as long. For those that thing that this story is approaching an end, don't fear. It's probably only about halfway done. **

**Well... when I say this chapter is a "recovery" from the last... it doesn't lack it's own action, I promise!**

**3**

**- - -**

**Chapter Twenty-one – Resurrected **

**21.1**

Raven did not sleep once she had come to be in Richard's arms. They found their friends—now thankfully not frozen by whatever it was that she had done—and the five of them found solace amongst themselves, in the solar that Kori had already claimed as her own. With the sun pouring warmth into the room, the lot of them could almost forget that something had happened. Most of them did not understand what, or appreciate the significance of Slade's appearance.

Kori tended Raven's hair. Raven had wanted to cut it, but Kori had dissuaded her. With slow, methodical strokes Kori brushed her friend's hair, until even Raven's eyes were half closed with exhaustion. Eventually Kori twined the lengthened locks into a plait that fell like a dividing line down Raven's back and tied it off with a bit of leather. If Raven took note, she said nothing, simply drifting in and out of her own exhaustion.

Richard sat opposite the two women, face cradled in his hands. Kori had ordered food and wine be brought, and only now did it begin to arrive. Sleepy eyed maids brought it, among them Tara who looked from face to face among the others, and slid to sit on the floor next to Garfield.

"What happened? Are you alright? Garfield," she exploded with her questions, shattering the understood peace and silence among the five. Garfield shook his head. He looked much older than he had before last night.

"Just drop it, Tara... we will talk later." he said wearily. Her blue eyes flared up, and she pushed to her feet.

"No! I deserve to know as much as the rest of you!" she yelled. Raven closed her eyes against such noise. The lot of the five moved restlessly at the noise.

"Tara-" Kori spoke up. Tara was cowed, if only her volume and not her tenacity. "There was an attack last night by a terrible man named... Slade. We fought him, but..." she trailed off, despairing at her own failures.

Richard spoke up. "Slade..." he growled half under his breath. Kori turned to Richard, as if remembering something from their ordeal.

"Friend Richard, do you know Slade?" her puzzled eyes tried to meet Richard's, but the prince kept his gaze low. The others turned to Richard, giving him their full attention in this strange mystery.

"He was a general of my father's..." Richard spoke up. "He was to be executed when he was suspected in an attempt on my father's life. He disappeared from the cell. It was high treason, and spoke to a deep plot within the court and guard to have freed him. But I never expected to see him here, and not-" he cut himself off, stealing a glance at Raven. She did not look at Richard, but seemed to sense his gaze.

"But why would he be after friend Raven?!" Kori bubbled over, as if she could simply not understand. Richard understood, then, something about his wife. She could fathom evil in only straightforward, simple terms. She lacked guile of her own, and so could not understand it in others. It was endearing, if a trifle terrifying. In some ways his wife was very, very young.

"I don't know," Victor spoke up. His voice was cowed, as they all felt. Yesterday had felt like years or at least months, but it had only been one day. Tomorrow morning they would all waken to a royal wedding... Raven's. Richard looked to her, knowing without a doubt that she could not be prepared for that, not after last night. He rose, drawing the eyes of all gathered.

"I will speak to the delegates... surely they can be persuaded to put off the wedding, at least a few days. After your behavior last night..." he tried to smile, but failed. No one seemed to fault him for that lack. He said no more before he excused himself. Raven did not watch him go, though Kori did. She turned to face the others with puzzlement in her eyes.

"Friends, what shall we do? Will this Slade return for Raven? We cannot allow him to have her!" her impassioned speech was unable to rile them, as exhaustion claimed both too well. Tara stole a strange glance at Raven and stood abruptly. Without a word, she left. Garfield looked after her, confused and a little hurt. After a moment, he clamored to his feet and excused himself, leaving Kori, Victor, and Raven alone, but each very much alone in their own minds.

**21.2**

In the end, the council would not be budged. The wedding would take place as scheduled, on the morrow. Richard was enraged at the thought, but was dismissed before his temper could take hold of his tongue. That was probably for the better, for he was nearly at his last nerve, and starting massive international war was probably not a good idea, no matter how much he wanted to tell the collected exactly what he thought about them.

Richard sought a hot bath and his bed before the noon hour, and was thankful for that much. His wife, it seemed, had finally been persuaded to sleep as well, and when he climbed into bed next to her, she curled closer to his warmth. She was like a kitten, he mused. No... more like a puppy, all boundless energy and fierce protectiveness. He was unsure, in many ways, of how to feel about his wife, but he could not fault her in all regards. She was a good person, and would make a better queen.

He thought to lay awake for some time, to think, but the warmth of the bed and the easy breathing of the woman beside him soon sent him to sleep himself. Thankfully, he did not even dream.

**21.3**

The wedding day dawned warm and humid, with the promise of rain on the horizon. As was tradition in Gotham, the bride was cloistered with her women about her until a late breakfast was served for the bridal party. Then the bride would be prepared for the ceremony, and kept very alone once she was ready. The idea was to prepare her for the transformation from child to woman, from daughter to wife. Raven was neither a woman of Gotham nor a child, but she allowed her host's ways to dictate her day. She had no strong feelings, after all, and it was simpler to allow the women their way.

Kori attended her, the highest rank of all the women present. The Princess of Tamaran and now Princess of Gotham as well watched as the maids and noblewomen of Gotham alike spun about Raven in preparations. Cosmetics were used to create purity. Fresh flowers, fall flowers from late in the season, would be braided into the bride's hair. The gown was deep, rich blue. Kori had made it a point to find out Raven's favorite color: if her dear friend could not have anything else she wished in this wedding, her gown would at least be of a pleasing color.

If Raven even noticed the gown, Kori couldn't have been able to say. Her friend's eyes were very far away, and her face drawn. The princess wondered if her friend had slept at all last night.

"Friend Raven..." she spoke up, stepping close to appear next to her friend in the mirror. "It is nearly time for the ceremony." she said. It was not something that would please Raven, of that she knew. She wished she knew something that would. Raven turned to face Kori, and she was again struck by how stoic, how serious Raven was. Kori knew she was not much, if any, older than Kori was, but sometimes Raven seemed generations older. It was strange.

"Thank you... Koriand'r... for everything you have done for me." Raven broke her stoic facade for a moment and turned and truly hugged Kori, for the first time and perhaps the last. Kori was caught by surprise, but hugged the bride back with deceptive strength.

"I would do all this and more for you, friend Raven." she said very firmly. When Raven stepped back, she had put back into place the stoic mask. And the two went out of the preparation chamber and walked towards the wedding. It struck Kori that she had witnessed funeral processions with more joy in them.

**21.4**

And so came to be the wedding of the King of Atlantis and his bride, Princess of Azarath. They stood before a priest of Gotham and a priest of Atlantis, who repeated vows in both languages. Raven wished, strangely, for the old priest... Azar.. but found her wish both childish and unwelcome to her. She spoke what they wished, and performed several rituals meant for fertility, loyalty, and the like. She recognized—vaguely—a resemblance to her own people's ways. It matted not at all.

She turned to face the man who would be her husband in scant moments. She expected panic or disgust or resignation, but found nothing but a startling emptiness to her. Her empathy was too silent, as if she had none. She turned her face upward and saw something in the king's eyes that put fear into her heart. A heartbeat later, she felt the treachery strike home, and she knew. She knew she had been betrayed. She had been killed by the very people she had trusted to aid her in defeating her father.

'Fools' she thought weakly. Her legs were no longer strong enough to hold her, and her never-husband allowed her to fall. When she looked down, she saw that it was an ornate dagger that stuck out of her heart. Each beat of it betrayed her further, spilling red blood down her gown. 'Kori chose such a beautiful color, only for this...' She slumped to the ground, splayed out as if on display. Perhaps she was.

If there was an outcry, she did not hear one. She was already gone.

**21.5**

There was, of course, an outcry. Most had known this was to happen. It had been decided by the council of the known kingdoms, after all. Those that did not know were those that had been closest to the demon: Gotham's heir, his bride, and most of the servants. Also, Tamaran's youngest prince, for he would have cut out his own heart rather than see this happen to Raven, of all.

Those that knew her, and loved her, best came to their feet and ran to her side. Richard had a sword in his hand, and tried to attack the Altantean king. Kori went to her knees at Raven's side. Victor and Garfield kept a crowd at bay with words and force when necessary.

The Tamaranian princess was in tears. Her friend was too gone to reach, even by her, even if she had been a healer. Her brother went to his knees beside her, equally touched, equally torn. But he had an idea, a mad-cap idea, and one that would only work if he threw all of his will, all of his soul into it. He looked at his beloved sister with his heart in his eyes, and she realized with startling clarity that he planned something terrible.

"Ryand'r..." she breathed. He shook his head.

"I love you, sister. I always have." he hugged her, fiercely, and she was reluctant to let him go. But she did, and he turned to Raven. She had not realized how much he felt for the half-demon, until this very moment. She wished she could have met such a realization with joy instead of pain.

Ryand'r turned to Raven and cradled her, gentle—so gentle—and Kori realized with some measure of trepidation that while her brother's body was here, his soul had gone elsewhere.

**21.6**

Elsewhere proved to be Raven's own mind. She was alive, barely and fleetingly. She would not be for scant heartbeats more. Ryand'r knew this. He had to move fast. He dove into her mind headlong and without caution. The ability to enter minds was rare for a Tamaranian, and Ryand'r had not practiced it much. That she was an empath, and reaching out as much for someone as he was desperate to reach her made this possible.

He found her, torn and broken, cradled by a tiny thread of life. He reached for her, held her close, and wished he'd had the courage to make this real before now. He should have been the one to marry her. He should have protected her. But it didn't matter now.

"Ryand'r, what—" she breathed into his mind. He cut her off, kissing her cheek sweetly.

"You know why I'm here. You have to live." he replied, sad smile the only expression he could produce for her. She understood his meaning, and he was glad he wouldn't have to explain. She pushed against him, trying to resist, but she was already too weak.

"It doesn't work that way."

"It can. I know you can. You just have to try." She looked up at him with hell in her eyes, but he wasn't afraid. "Do I have to tell you why? You have to be the one to defeat your father. We both know it. If you die now, he has won!" She looked away, but nodded. She wasn't stupid. He wasn't going to back down.

"I'm not sure I can make it work this way...." she breathed, but already his perceptions were getting hazy. Slowly, she faded away, and he realized that he had succeeded. He closed his eyes and smiled.

**21.7**

Someone screamed. Raven only realized it was her when she felt Kori's arms close around her and a muffled sob sounded by her ear. Raven inhaled sharply, one hand raising to cling to Kori, and her head turning to seek Ryand'r. She found him sprawled out on the ground, the wound she had possessed only moments ago marring his chest, which did not move to seek breath. He was dead.

Tears sprang to her eyes.

But there was chaos all around her. Kori pulled back, and even though the princess was crying she had a strength to her that Raven suddenly envied. The women parted, and pushed to stand. There was a great outcry, and Raven realized that they were all in mortal danger. She couldn't look at Ryand'r, but she did seek the man who was supposed to be her husband. He had fled, and Richard moved to her side, pale with concern.

He came within touching distance of her, but seemed to recover himself. He dared not. Kori reached for him, and Richard closed arms around her. He seemed to realize Ryand'r was dead abruptly, and grief filled him as well.

Ryand'r would be sorely missed. He had been a noble young man.

Raven surveyed the crowd and shook her head. "We can't stay here."

Richard nodded, but he was hesitant. "But where will we go? No one is going to accept us with open arms, not after this."

Raven hesitated. "I have an idea. Get Victor and Garfield... we'll go the last place anyone will look for us." she had a hollow sound to her voice, which made Richard nervous. He reached for her.

"Raven?"

"We're going to go to Azarath." she said very quietly.


	22. Solemn

**The Place that We Call Home**

**By burn to ashe**

"Maybe we're victims of fateRemember when we'd celebrateWe'd drink and get high until lateAnd now we're all aloneWedding bells ain't gonna chimeWith both of us guilty of crimeAnd both of us sentenced to timeAnd now we're all aloneProtect me from what I want"

"_**Protect me from what I want" by Placebo**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans, the characters or storylines. This piece is written merely for public enjoyment and does not garner financial return. **

**Author Notes: Life's been pretty hectic, but here's the next chapter. Hope ya'll enjoy. **

*** * ***

**Chapter Twenty two: Solemn**

**22.1**

How they managed to escape the palace grounds before being captured, Raven was unsure, but they six of them were mounted and riding before a counter force could be organized. Raven suspected that it was Bruce's doing. She had grown to understand the king in some measure… and she knew he respected his enemies to a degree. Besides, he wouldn't want to hurt Richard. Though conflict characterized every interaction the two had, Bruce obviously cared for his son.

Raven envied Richard that, she'd learned. But her cards were different than most else. She was destined to face her father. Some said she was destined to kill him. Some said he would destroy her, and consume her power. Raven could not say which was more true. Not really. But she knew it didn't matter what happened. If she never faced her father, she would not be able to face herself ever again.

Tired violet eyes cast idly around her companions. She rode towards the back of the group. They had rode hard for the first two days, but it seemed they were not pursued, and continued on more slowly, for the sake of the horses. They'd not had time to pack much, save some water and grain for the horses, so they'd been forced to sell most of the jewelry and finery they'd had with them for food (and for a gown not stained and torn as Raven's had been).

Some of them seemed to even have relaxed enough to pretend it was merely a journey made for pleasure with their companions. Victor exercised every ounce of his skill as a cook to provide them with warm, savory meals when they stopped for the night. Kori had devoted herself to the protection of the camp each night, and set up a perimeter with such efficiency that Raven was startled; it was so easy to forget that she was a warrior as well as a princess and wife. Garfield and Tara spent their days speaking quietly, but at night they turned what could be a pensive fire and meal to one of jovial conversation.

No one talked about Azarath. No one spoke of their destination, or their goal when they arrived. Raven hadn't confided in anyone that she was glad for the company, because she felt selfish and foolish. Why had she brought them? They were no army. She had come to the sobering conclusion that she was most likely riding to her own death. But she said nothing of this to her friends.

She thought of Ryand'r, and offered a prayer of regret. He had saved her but for what? It didn't really matter. She couldn't possibly succeed against her father in single combat. Her hands tightened on her reins and she was lost in her own world of anxiety and sorrow until someone appeared at her side.

She was startled to realize it was Garfield. They'd spoken little since their arrival in Gotham, but his face was surprisingly serious. She blinked, and did not greet him. He nodded one to her, though. Something was wrong, she realized.

"Something's wrong with Tara." he said softly. Raven blinked, but could have laughed. She didn't. Garfield was very concerned. Raven sought out Tara amongst them, and found the young woman riding alone, near enough to Richard to hear his conversation with Victor, but definitely by herself. Raven ran through the girl's actions, but found nothing out of the ordinary that she'd seen. Then again, Raven had been distracted by her own thoughts.

"What do you mean, Garfield?" Raven asked.

Garfield shrugged, but went on. "Since we crossed the river, she's been acting skittish and quiet. I don't know why." Raven didn't know either. "I thought maybe you'd have something to say to her… she's worried about everything, I think."

Raven didn't roll her eyes, but she wanted to. Why her? She wasn't good at talking to herself, let alone others. And to be perfectly honest, Raven didn't even really like Tara. There was something about the girl that put Raven on edge, and there always had been; but she was one of their companions, and that made her precious enough. "I'll try." she promised. She shifted the horse's path, and drew up alongside Tara.

"How are you?" she asked politely enough. Tara glanced up, and Raven was struck by how tired and drawn the girl looked. She obviously hadn't been sleeping well.

"I'm alright." she lied. Raven wondered why she was lying, and what could possibly have the girl this worked up. Was the prospect of going to Azarath this distressing? Raven supposed that was probably it. After all, she was stressed, and she knew exactly what she was getting herself into.

"It's alright to be afraid, Tara." she said. It was awkward and strange to say it. It certainly wasn't alright for Raven, or for Richard, or for Kori. But Tara? She was barely more than a child. Raven wasn't sure she meant the statement anyway. They all needed their wits about them in the coming days.

"I'm not afraid." Tara said defensively. There was that attitude again. Raven did roll her eyes this time. Tara turned to look at her and her lips quirked into a smirk. "We crossed into Markovia almost a day ago. By now, the king knows we're here." her voice was deadpan when she spoke.

Raven's brow furrowed, and she thumbed through her memory for mention of Markovia. A smallish kingdom of little military importance, but…. But a kingdom that boasted an inordinately large population of geomancers. Raven said nothing, but wondered why Tara would be anxious to return to the kingdom of her birth.

Raven opened her mouth to reply, but realized that this conversation had distracted her. She pulled hard on the reins, and thankfully her beast stopped moving. Eyes darted madly around her, and she looked to Tara.

Richard pulled up his horse as well, and turned to look at her. "Raven?"

"We're surrounded."

**22.2**

They were indeed surrounded. Richard immediately drew his sword, as did Garfield and Victor, but it wouldn't be enough. There were easily two dozen men around them, blending into the woods as if they belonged there. Of them, only Tara seemed to draw a measure of poised regard around her.

"I wouldn't attack if I were you, Prince." she said stiffly to Richard. Even her tone had changed from bratty and childish to something more mature. Raven's eyes narrowed as she looked at Tara. "These are the king's most loyal guards. I'm shocked he sent them personally to receive us, however."

One stepped out of the wood, bow still taunt and aimed at Richard's heart, but he nodded to Tara. "Lady, your father humbly requests to speak to you, and your friends. If you would join us peacefully, we'll escort you to the capital."

Richard swore, but Raven heard what he didn't seem to. She looked at Tara with new regard, and shook her head. How had she missed it? The geomancer girl was a member of the damned royal family. And they were all caught as surely as butterflies in a child's net. Kori placed a hand on Richard's arm and the two met eyes.

"It does no harm to go with them. If they break their word, then we will fight." she said simply. She was an honorable warrior herself.

Richard looked down at the bow, and nodded, glancing at Tara with cold eyes. One lie had nearly destroyed their unity. Another would be a bit much. Tara shrugged.

"We'll go with you, commander." she said simply.

**22.3**

It took another two days to arrive in the capital. The easy camaraderie they'd enjoyed on the road disappeared. Richard stayed very close to Kori and Raven, protective, and Victor close to his prince. Of them, only Garfield seemed alone, singular in a storm. He stayed close to Tara, but they didn't seem to talk much. Richard wondered if that childish bond they'd shared would survive this. Then he was forced to wonder if any of them would survive this.

Richard had too much time to think in the silence of riding and the evening meals overseen by what felt too much like their jailors. At night, he lay curled around his wife, to lend her some protection and warmth, but he slept little. He thought of Ryand'r's sacrifice often. He thought of Raven, laying in a pool of blood, dying. It made his blood run cold. He had not been the one to save her, and he had no words of comfort for his wife, when she spoke of her brother's death.

He spent too much time thinking.

When they arrived in the capital city, Richard instructed Victor to protect Kori. He would protect Raven.

Victor seemed puzzled. "Shouldn't you protect your own wife, Richard?" he asked.

Richard shook his head. "When they discover who Raven is… I imagine there will be trouble."

They came to the capital city without fanfare, though the people turned out to stare. Easily two dozen soldiers flanked their rag tag group as they rode through the streets of the city. The people spoke a language strange to the ears, and one that Richard did not know well enough to understand easily. He knew much of Markovia, but nothing of use here.

They were admitted to the king's presence without fanfare. Raven was tense at Richard's side, and he almost touched her, in a reassuring way. But he couldn't allow himself to do it. It would feel like a betrayal to his wife.

They were not announced, but the king seemed not to mind. He was an older gentleman, but seemed strong enough. He looked from face to face among them, but his eyes landed on Tara and lingered.

"So you return finally. Would you care to explain where you've been for this last year?" Tara sighed. The entirety of her companions stared at her as if she'd grown another head.

"I left for my own reasons, and would not have returned if not by chance." she replied. The grubby runaway who had become a princess's lady in waiting shocked them all into silence. She was dirty from days on the road, covered in sweat and grime and smelling of horse. But she spoke to the king with a measure of insolence.

Raven, among them, did not seem too surprised. Richard noticed that once he had a second to scrape his jaw off of the floor. He touched her elbow, and she turned. She shook her head. They'd speak later.

"I see." the man said, disapproving, and in some measure hurt by her words. He motioned with one hand, and a young man, perhaps Richard's age, appeared. His eyes lit up when he spotted Tara. "Your sister has returned, Brion. Greet her."

The youth came down the stairs and approached his sister, embracing her. Tara seemed at least somewhat pleased by this, and embraced him in turn. The young man called Brion, surely a prince, turned to the other companions of his sister and bowed lightly.

"I thank you for protecting my sister. I'm sure she has not made it easy on you."

Richard recovered first, but all he could do was ensure the youth it had been no trouble.

Tara avoided all of their eyes, most especially Garfield, who looked stunned and hurt.


	23. Unbalanced

**The Place that We Call Home**

**By burn to ashe**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans, the characters or storylines. This piece is written merely for public enjoyment and does not garner financial return. **

**Author Notes: I know it's been forever since I updated, and I apologize. I blame this chapter. It is very short and hardly up to what I normally write, but it was the most painfully hard thing to write... for no reason I can fathom. It's simply killed my muse for this story every time I've sat down to write. So as not to abandon this story, I've settled for a short, poorly written chapter, and promise the next will be much better. I apologize again. **

**Chapter Twenty three: Unbalanced**

**23.1**

They were wined, dined, and treated to all of the niceties a king may offer. Garfield faced the lot of it somewhat distracted from it. He had been stunned to learn that Tara was royalty, but then again, he shouldn't have been. It seemed that everyone he knew was. So weird, to ponder it. After a night of rich food and music, he'd slipped away. He wanted to talk to Tara, but she was seated by the king's hand, across from the Prince, her brother; she wasn't looking at him, and that hurt. Garfield was walking now through the halls. As a guest of the king, no one stopped him, but there wasn't much in the way of warmth as the guards looked upon him.

He wasn't sure why his wandering had brought him back to the suites given to their party. He ignored his own and studied the one just across the hall from his own. Raven's. The lot of them had downplayed her identity, and the king had seemed too distracted to really notice them. Then again, the return of an errant daughter would do that. Garfield still didn't understand why Tara had lied to them, but he was willing to hear her out.

He raised a hand to knock on Raven's door, but no one answered. Put off, he stepped back, intending now to return to his own rooms and maybe try to sleep. He didn't expect to hear voices or see Victor and Raven approaching. Apparently Victor was escorting her back from the banquet. They looked subdued. Garfield knew why. Their escape from Gotham seemed surreal to them all.

Raven paused, and then looked at Garfield.

"Is something wrong?" Raven asked. Garfield shrugged, but she wasn't convinced. She glanced at Victor, who nodded and exited by way of one of the doors to the left. His own suite, surely. That left Garfield and Raven alone.

It had been awhile since they'd talked.

Raven motioned with a tilt of her head. He wasn't sure why he could have ever thought she was a peasant. She acted like royalty. Like the rest of them. It was a world he knew nothing about. But most of the time, it didn't seem to matter.

They turned to walk down the hall, away from the feasting and revelry. Away from the suites where they had rooms. Out into the dusk, into a courtyard that Garfield had paced earlier in the day. In the shadows, it looked different, and he realized that Raven had chosen the open air courtyard purposely. He felt homesick all of a sudden.

She didn't speak, so he did. "Everything has changed... but it's still the same." he knew what he meant. She looked at him, though, and he wondered if she did. "I mean... you, and Tara... and Gotham..." he murmured. He wasn't making any sense and he knew it.

"I'm sorry. I never meant to catch anyone else up in this. Not really." she replied. She had a faraway look in her eye. Garfield reached over and touched her wrist.

"It's alright. We're doing the right thing." he said. He was confident that they were. Despite it all. "We all believe in you." She looked up at him, and smiled slightly.

What happened next is something she still has a hard time thinking about. She wasn't entirely sure how to describe it. It was something like having the ground pulled out from beneath her mind. She gasped, but wasn't sure she actually made an audible sound. She was reeling. Her balance was thrown completely off as she struggled to stay upright. Distantly, she could hear Garfield make some sort of noise as he reached for her. But she slipped through his arms and hit the ground.

He screamed. She clung to consciousness as she felt every emotion she always fought to control scream to the forefront of her mind. The chaos alone threatened to pull her under, drown her. She opened her mouth to scream, but her throat was closed. Was she crying? She couldn't tell. She didn't know how much time passed but she realized quickly enough that Garfield had retrieved Victor. They were both over her, and she was aware of their faces, concerned and stricken, as she finally heard a voice booming through her ears.

"Darkness there and nothing more. Travel no more to Nevermore."

Then all was dark.

**23.2**

Tara looked around her old room and scowled. Nothing called to her. She wasn't this girl, had never really been. She sighed and ran a hand through thick blonde hair and shook it out. She paced because she felt confined. She paced because she was waiting for someone and they hadn't shown up yet; she was starting to get nervous. She was almost starting to regret her decisions... but she couldn't afford that. Not really.

He appeared like he always did, as if out of thin air. She spun when she heard someone and found him leaning up against the wall of her bedroom. Suddenly it felt too intimate, and she took a step backward.

"Slade," she breathed.

"Did you bring the mirror?" He may appear perfectly calm, but she could almost see the tension in him. This mirror was more than just a mirror, she knew that, but she didn't know exactly what it was. And she wondered if she shouldn't barter for more than she was getting out of this for it.

"Maybe I did," she replied.

He was suddenly in front of her. He'd moved too quickly for her to do more than stumble backwards. He caught her forearm, and she tried to yank it away. "Don't play coy with me, girl. Did you bring it?"

"Yes!" she snarled. He released her, and she rubbed her arm, glaring up at him. She turned to her dressing table and produced it, wrapped in linen. He took it with careful reverence, then frowned.

"Without her balance she will fall..." But he said nothing more. He turned away and was gone as quickly as he'd come.

**23.3**

Raven woke to find she wasn't alone. Garfield had perched in a chair by the bed and was staring at her. She turned and sat up, suddenly dizzy, and swayed even then.

"Rae, calm down," Garfield was on his feet and crossed to her before she could make it out of the bed. She was in her own rooms. Her suspicions pounded in her mind, terrifying her, and she stumbled as she crawled over to the edge of the bed, and nearly fell off. Garfield caught her before she hit the ground entirely, and she kicked to release her legs from the blankets that had coiled around them. She fought away from him and grabbed a drawer, pulling it open.

It was gone. She'd known the moment someone touched it who didn't belong, but it was truly gone. The mirror was gone. She turned pale and looked at Garfield. He caught her arms, afraid she was going to tumble again, but she didn't. She simply stared.

"I... it's gone."

"What is gone?"

But she didn't respond. There seemed no need to.


	24. Incapable

**The Place that We Call Home**

**By burn to ashe**

_"While you were sleeping_

_I figured out everything_

_I was constructed for you_

_And you were molded for me_

_And now I hear your name_

_Coursing through my veins_

_You shine so bright it's insane_

_You put the sun to shame"_

_"Lullaby" by the Spill Canvas_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans, the characters or storylines. This piece is written merely for public enjoyment and does not garner financial return. **

**Author Notes: Short chapter, but I'm trying to get back onto a regular update schedule, so the next few chapters might be shorter while I work on getting back on track. Hope you still enjoy the content. **

**Chapter Twenty four: Incapable**

**24.1**

The few days they took to rest in Tara's homeland served to ease some frayed edges among the companions, save in Raven. Richard was glad of the chance to breath, and to recollect his thoughts. Though something significant was obviously troubling Raven, Richard spent his time pouring over maps, planning a route to Azarath, and considering what they might do when they got there.

Raven had said nothing about going directly to face her father. Considering her plan in Gotham, he suspected she would never consider single combat against him. Richard wondered why, but hadn't pressed the issue with her. She was pale and edgy, as if she hadn't been sleeping for some time, and he'd encouraged her to go sleep before they departed in the morning. His wife was sequestered away with Raven, and he hoped that Kori's presence might be comforting to her.

Richard glanced at Victor, who was staring at the massive section of the map that was Azarath. It was more an empire than a kingdom. It had expanded, swallowing lands as it did, just as it was rumored the demon king would swallow a man's soul. Richard didn't like thinking too much about what the demon king might be capable of, but Victor seemed sick with it.

"What are we going to do?" Victor finally spoke up. Richard raised his head to look at the magi he hadn't thought he would like when they met, the man who had become an invaluable ally and a friend, and lifted one shoulder in half a shrug.

"Raven is our best resource on the subject. She knows her father best." he didn't like saying the word 'father', but it was a fact. Raven was the half demon daughter of the demon king. She had been largely reclusive on what that meant she could do. "We have to talk to her. We have to know what she can do."

Victor didn't seem satisfied, but Richard didn't notice his friend's frown. "I meant about Gotham. We're outlaws now. Can we ever go home?" his friend tried to sound indifferent, but there was passion in him. Victor was a very passionate young man.

Richard stilled. "I don't know." he replied truthfully. "Once the demon king is dead, maybe." It was true. Richard couldn't say they would be welcomed back without that as credentials. They had defied not only their own liege lord, but the alliance their kingdoms depended on for support and prosperity. They could never be welcomed back without repercussions. Richard swore it didn't matter, privately, but he couldn't pretend it didn't sting.

Victor nodded, stiff with pain, and looked back at the map. It didn't look like he was paying much attention, though. He was suddenly very still, very quiet. After a few moments, Richard stood and departed with a murmured goodbye. He wondered if the magi would sleep before morning.

Richard walked the corridors of the palace, but he felt the guards' eyes upon him. He may have arrived with Tara (their princess... still strange to him) but he was a stranger, and they did not trust him. It was probably for the best, too. Eventually, though, it unnerved him. He did not want to go to his own chambers, despite the hour, because he did not want to sleep. Or even try.

He ended up in a large room with the walls lined with books. A library of sorts. He was amazed at the size and design, and despite the dim lighting, he admired the architecture within. It was older than much of the rest of the palace he'd seen, he would guess.

He found Raven standing in a small antechamber, looking at a statue of a woman. The statue was half cloaked in a rich blue silken cloth, and Richard wondered why. But his attention quickly focused on Raven, who looked so lost, so forlorn, as to be completely oblivious to his entrance.

"Raven?"

She didn't turn, and he wondered why. He reached out to touch her arm, and she didn't respond. Her skin was cold and clammy under his touch. He spun her, to face him, and looked into her eyes. The violet was dim and there were heavy bags under her eyes.

"Raven?" he breathed again.

She stiffened, shaking her head. "You never promised." Promised what? He didn't remember a promise. He kept his hands on her arms, feeling his stomach sinking. "You never promised to be the one to kill me." she added, her voice raspy. He flinched, dropping his hands from her, and shook his head.

"No one is going to kill you!" he snarled. She didn't move, didn't even blink. He turned away, pacing, watching her. "We'll beat him together, and then," And then what? He had no answer for that. He would return to Gotham, most likely. She would remain in Azarath? It shouldn't matter. It shouldn't.

"He's in my mind," she said. The words, and the tone, startled him. He didn't understand, and surely his expression conveyed that. She raised her hands to her head, fingers in greasy hair. "He's there... I can hear him... I don't know how long I can fight him, Richard." She sounded so lost, so desperate. He'd never heard her like this before.

He gathered her into his arms and held her. She clung to him, which frightened him more than how she looked and sounded. She was not helpless, and hardly dependent on those around her. To see her in such a desperate condition was frightening.

"It's me. I'm the key. Through me, he can command powers greater than ever before, and he will conquer the known kingdoms. If he can control me... use me as the key." His grip tightened, but he was suddenly afraid. He hadn't realized... and he didn't entirely understand. He didn't know much about magic, despite being surrounded by it. "I've defied him thus far, but he has the mirror now, he has the portal into my mind."

"Mirror?" he asked. She shook her head. That was important now, but he'd ask her later.

"I don't know how long I can hold on to myself with him there." she breathed. "You have to be ready to kill me before he can use me." she looked up at him. She looked so hopeless, so terrified.

He kissed her. Slow, comforting, but with strength and reassurance. He would make sure everything was alright. He had to. He cradled her face, brushing her hair away from her eyes, and kissed her again. This one more insistent. Loving. Kind.

She breathed out against his lips as they parted, the warmth more arousing than he could have guessed. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, somewhat stunned. Her hands were tangled in his shirt, and he ran a hand down her back, tracing her spine.

Neither of them was sure. And there was Kori. Thoughts of the red haired princess between them seemed to come almost immediately, but neither one released the other.

"What does this mean?" Richard asked. Raven shook her head.

"Nothing. It has to mean nothing." And she pulled away. But he caught her hands.

"I don't want it to mean nothing." he insisted. She seemed to regain some sense of herself, some surety of her footing.

"Content yourself with your wife." she breathed. "She is a good woman, and will be a good queen. And I... I am going to die."

"You are not going to die!" he snapped. "No one is!" Idealistic and innocent, but at least he believed it. He believed he could save everyone.

Raven looked at him, sadness etched into her eyes, and sighed slightly. "And yet, you are still married." she breathed. Impulsively, she stepped forward and touched his face with her fingers. "You deserve someone who can love you, and Kori... she can. There is so much in her capable of loving someone. That should be you. I am not capable of the same." She left. Just like that, she left. And he felt his world shifting, unstable. He took a seat on a stone bench, looking up at the statue she'd been studying moments before, confused, and concerned. And angry.


End file.
